Red Moon Rising
by Dendron
Summary: As Dark Magic comes to light and Harry explores his own dark side, he and Draco come together to fight Voldemort and the Ministry. Light wizards are corrupt, Dark wizards are misrepresented, old friendships end, new romances arise! Long fic, HarryxDraco
1. Chapter 1

Hello everyone! This is Dendron!

I'm a student and therefore don't have much time to write, but I feel like I will get to the end of this story because I'm taking a new angle at writing.

This is un-beta'd and therefore may have spelling/grammar mistakes, although I do go through my writing fervently. If anyone likes the start of the story and would like to volunteer to beta, just e-mail me!

This will have brief moments in sixth year, but it will be largely in seventh year and about a year or so after for the war.

This WILL be a SLASH (malexmale) fic for HarryxDraco, that will not change to any other couples and WILL NOT remain just friendship. There WILL be adult language and sex in the story, so if you are sensitive to those things, don't read. Also, this WILL be a long fic, I will aim for about 150k or more. It will be dark at times, or sad, but it will not be continuously depressing. It will largely cover the Slytherins and will mostly be from Draco's P.O.V, but may switch to Harry's. Much Dark Magic throughout. Lastly, I don't like sad endings, and therefore will not likely have one, so don't get angsty at the end.

Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters or story of Harry Potter. That belongs strictly to J.K. Rowling. However, I can write based off of her stories, and will promptly do so.

There will be some latin/old english throughout the story, translations can be found at the end of each chapter. READ AUTHOR'S NOTES if you are ever really curious about something that might be mentioned, or e-mail me, I don't bite ;)

Much Love, Dendron.

The Killing Moon

Draco's P.O.V

A reflection can tell you many things, remind you of many things -make you into things.

My image, I knew, was sickly, pale, dark circles under my eyes and clammy skin, my hair was always greasy because although I always had enough time to shower, I didn't like the time to think.

Everyone at school noticed my complexion this year and they made up their sad sob stories to go behind it. I'd gained the sympathy of so many students in other houses since the start of this year. Even Granger didn't hold my alliances against me anymore, not with my illness sobering the lights of Hogwarts. In a way, taking out one of the most enigmatic people in Hogwarts, one of the most noticeable, most followed, takes away from the completeness of Hogwarts. In a way, they missed how I used to be: arrogant, mean, up close, everything a bad boy should be.

Now, my reflection was not one that showed confidence: I was openly sick. The duties passed on to me by my superiors was overbearing. While the anxiety was eating at me, I ate at nothing. I did not sleep without dreamless-sleep, did not move without pepper-up, did not respond without some well placed veritaserem, did not retain weight without nutrition potions.

The most I'd said that week was in between moist sobs to Myrtle, but she could not understand the guilt that my family was going to die because of me.

My father, silent, hopes that I succeed while wishing I did not have to. My mother sighs and rubs at her eyes.

In the end, they understood the consequence, not the responsibility, not the guilt.

The washroom door slammed open and the noise echoed around the room. Potter, standing bewildered and wild in his suspicion, was ignorant. He was the only person in the school who had not conceded to my depression, he saw it as a mask. He drew his wand, but continued to stand rigidly.

I couldn't stop crying. Another subtle threat had come through that morning from Voldemort, this one more aggravating than the others. I could do nothing to defend myself, and Potter became unnerved.

I felt like I would vomit, again, like I had after every other lunch. I prepared myself to make a comment to save face, but I could hardly move. I lowered myself to rest my upper body on the sink. When I could finally stand up and turn around, Potter had lowered his wand.

So I struck, a quick crucio that I knew wouldn't have come out even if Potter hadn't shot back.

We were into the battle so fast I couldn't tell who was where. None of my curses worked, though. They all missed, or just didn't incarnate, but Potter was in a state of wild abandon. The next crucio I shot out was returned with a very curious spell, one I only knew my godfather to use.

I could hardly concentrate as I laid there, dying.

Potter, I knew, was somewhere on the side, horrified at what he'd done. I wanted to tell him not to get help: leave me dying, then my family will be free from our charges. I wanted to tell him not to feel bad, he was just ignorant, uneducated.

Still, all I could do was breathe.

The bathroom swam around me.

My heart pumped hard to keep me alive while the support it gave poured right from my chest.

All the rest was pain, like crucio, but more excruciating in its continuation.

Severus was truly my best friend. He knitted me up without fussing over me and gave me potions for the pain. He sat by my bed for hours, telling me stories about his childhood and his original plans for the Sectumsempra against his own nemesis. On Monday, he brought real, non-hospital food for me: chicken, peas, gravy and potatoes. On Tuesday he played exploding snap with me.

I was supposed to be released as soon as my heart was finally mended, around the next Tuesday. The stasis spell keeping the wound on my heart kept it from bleeding and infections, but I could still _feel it_. It was itching, like a splinter not yet pulled from my skin. As much as I tried to ignore it, there wasn't anything to distract me in the hospital. I'd finished my homework, I'd read, I wrote to my parents, but it nagged at me for the rest of my abysmal time in the hospital.

The Sunday before I was released Poppy informed me that I had a visitor. None of the Slytherins had come in to see me, so I was surprised to find Blaise fidgeting at the side of my bed.

"Draco."

Apparently he had nothing else to say.

He slumped onto my bed and I returned to reading Dark Magic: Source of all Evil. I only read it because it was so absurd. Whoever the ministry-approved dunderhead was who wrote it, he really had no idea what Dark Magic was.

"We're all scared for you. Pansy's been crying all week and I can't sleep, and Greg..." Blaise sighed and took the book I was still clutching. He placed it on the night stand and turned to me. "Greg hasn't written home since last Saturday." I tried to look out the window in front of me while he spoke, but Blaise moved farther into the bed, blocking my view. "Greg has never gone that long without writing home, Dra-"

"It's not my problem. All of you-" Now that I had spoken, I didn't know what to say.

Of course the Slytherins were scared: I was their leader, tall, proud, smart, and now reduced to a snivelling wimp.

"All of you need to take care of yourselves for a while."

"How could we? You've always looked after us, the Malfoys have always looked after us! So don't you dare abandon us now, not when it could hurt us."

"You can't dump more responsibility on me, Blaise, I can't take it. I can hardly live under this... this... guilt. No matter which move I make, it is going to hurt a lot of people."

I hadn't meant to start crying, but Blaise didn't mind. He never did, never judged me. So he held me there for long moments, minutes, or maybe hours. It was starting to get dark outside, and I knew I'd only have another twenty-four hours in the safety of the infirmary. One thing I liked about Blaise being one of my closest friends was that he smelled good. It wasn't a particular scent, but an all around pleasantness. I could spill all my secrets to him, just be near him, and things would seem alright.

"I can't let my family die, Blaise."

"You don't have to. Talk to Dumbledore."

"No."

I was trying to sleep throughout Monday, but I was continuously interrupted by people: A crying Pansy and a tired Snape sat by my bed separately. They updated me on the happenings in Hogwarts while trying not to hint at their worry over my condition.

A humble Dumbledore visited me just before supper. He calmly sat on the end of my bed, his long fingers toying at a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"Draco-" he started, seemingly distracted by the lack of hostility in the room. "You should know that not everyone who converts from Voldemort's side has to fight under me."

"No, I don't expect they do."

Dumbledore was a man for whom I had much respect, although I'd expected him to have a more persuasive opening line than that.

"It is a beautiful view in the hospital, although I hope that you won't be spending too much time here this year." Dumbledore left after he'd said that and he'd handed me his pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. I left them on my nightstand, staring precariously at me, an innocent object in an otherwise dark world. I thought I might try one, but ridding myself of something given to me by Albus Dumbledore himself seemed wrong.

Sunset was brightening the dark clouds as I tried to finally close my eyes to sleep, but there were footsteps approaching my bed. Assuming it was Poppy with another dose of Essence of Dittany for my heart, I propped an eye open.

It was not Poppy, however.

Potter fumbled at my bedside, fidgeting like Blaise had earlier that week. Trying my best not to scare him away without finding out what he wanted, I sat up in bed. Potter hastily sat in the chair next to my bed, looking out the window as I was. Throughout the silence he would sometimes make a jerky movement. He'd brush the hair out of his eyes, scratch at his chin, rub his shoulder. Sometimes he'd face me like he was ready to talk, but he'd blush and turn back around.

I tried hard to keep my patience in check and put myself in his shoes. He was ashamed, and I'm sure scared because he was afraid of becoming evil. He looked nervous to say this, however. Potter's hand found its way onto my bed, and yearning for contact, I snuggled down into my sheets, Potter's unsuspecting hand brushing my cheek.

We finally looked at each other.

Potter's fingers stretched to touch more, my temple, my forehead, and he ran his fingers through my hair. The infirmary was finally dark, Potter's fingers still ran over my skin. I thought about what my father might say if he could see this displayed affection, but instead, I came up with the image that Potter and my father would be good friends.

In many ways they were similar. They were both utterly curious about what they didn't know. I was no longer curious about why Potter was here. For the first time that year, I could think calmly.

"Hey Potter."

The broken silence was startling for a brief moment, but Potter quickly refocused on me. "Think you can cut me up some more so I can stay in here for a while."

Although for a moment I thought he might get defensive, Potter gave a wicked grin. "How about a stinging jinx while your at the top of the stairs?"

"Or you could go do something heroic that would shut the school down for a little while."

"I'd love to, Malfoy." Potter stayed with me for hours, I must have been asleep when he left.

In the morning I felt calmer about having to leave the infirmary. I checked my belongings and made my bed. The scratchy sheets rumpled and furled disobediently on the bed and the pillow was bunched into one corner of its case. I swiped my hand over the nightstand table to curl fingers around my wand, but they brushed across something else.

"Revealo." A cream colored envelop with chicken scratch writing appeared in my hands. Trepidly I opened it, only to find a ripped piece of parchment inside.

"Malfoy - I won't forget about this. Neither will you. -H.P"

I smiled despite myself and tucked the thing into my inner pocket. Knowing that there would be questions to answer and rumors to catch up on, having that little piece of comfort gave me the slightest hope for my future.

Even with the envelope in my pocket, my hope for my future was dim lit at best.

Dumbledore slid down the wall in his weakened state.

Again, I couldn't stop crying.

The crushing weight of controlling the future of a great war was daunting and my ability to shoot a curse was timid. I heard the Death Eaters coming up the stairs to join me in my rebellion. Bellatrix's hair came into view as I slammed the door shut and cast as many wards possible. I staggered to Dumbledore to sink to his level. None of the old lights was in his blue eyes, but he smiled nonetheless.

"I do believe it's about time, Mr. Malfoy, that you leave the ranks."

I nodded. "But Se-"

"Severus will be fine. I locked him in the dungeons and cast a confundo on him-" Dumbledore chuckled and coughed "-he will be safe from his parents, Draco, are not safe. But Lucius is an intelligent man. He will-" Another cough broke his speech. Not trusting myself to speak, I left the tower, Dumbledore protected by every ward I knew.

The staircase was quiet and dark. Bellatrix and her followers were nowhere to be seen and their magic was unsensable. Unsteadily I ran down to the Great Hall, wondering what my ancestors would say if they could see me. Some would be proud that I'd not followed anyone else's orders and had chosen my own path, like any true Malfoy should. Others, Great Aunt Black definitely included, would be cursing me to my grave.

A bright green curse shot my way as I rounded the corner into the great hall, my wand in my hand reacting without missing a beat. Bellatrix stopped when she realized it was I who entered and I took the opportunity to use expelliarmus on her.

"Boy!" She said, her voice as shrill and unpleasant as when I was a child. "What are you doing? The dark lord will kill you for this treachery!"

"He will be just as angry with you. Protego! Crucio!"

Bellatrix went down screaming and Greyback was pushed to the side by a spell shot from behind me. I carried on with an expelliarmus to Yaxley who flew backwards, waving his arms in a vain attempt to keep balance. His wand flew towards me but was summoned quickly by Alecto. He stood dumbly until he finally realized he should give Yaxley back his wand.

For a moment I wondered why the Carrows were even selected for the invasion of Hogwarts with their limited intelligence.

Taking a chance to look behind me I saw McGonagall striding into action, joined by Flitwick and Sprout. Amycus shot curses in every direction to distract the teachers while Alecto aimed at McGonagall and I spun to shoot a protego infront of her. As our eyes linked she took in the understanding that I was not going to switch sides and she nodded at me.

A sudden sweep of pain took me over and the faint yell of crucio faded out.

My muscles felt as if they were going to explode and my head was pounding.

I could feel my heart pounding hard and the pain increased as the first of my scars from an old Sectumsempra tore.

The world came back into focus just as suddenly as it had slid away.

I spat blood out of my mouth once, then again. It kept coming back in mouthfuls of metallic fluids and dribbled down my chin. Lifting my wand I coughed out an _episkey_ and gripped my knees to stand. I spat a last time and wobbled until my legs stopped shaking.

"Gedaelan!" A great rumbling began and the death eaters were thrown off balance as the Great Hall's floor separated, pebbles and debris thrown onto both sides between them and us.

"Elevo" Our side of the separation rose up, albeit slowly, until we looked three feet down at our enemies.

"Flodflet-" They fell again as water poured onto their lowered floor through all the cracks in the room. The stone walls trembled and the floor shook with the magic interfering its own. The ceiling faded into a huge mass of white, casting more light on us to see. The Slytherin table fell on its side and the Ravenclaw table slid until it hit the wall. The windows cracked from the shifted stones and threatened to shatter.

As our skirmish went on more teachers came into the hall and they teamed up in groups against the death eaters. Bellatrix had gotten up while my concentration was broken and tried to accio her wand from my grip. She failed and struggled in the rushing water that was now pooling up onto our platform.

In a desperate attempt to get her wand she stormed through the water in huge steps until she was close to the platform. My heart tore again and I lost vision for a single second. Bellatrix's wand clattered to the floor and she dove for it, but I kicked out. It caught her shoulder, but she recovered, her taut face tilted up as she began to cast a spell, and at a loss for what to do, I spat the blood in my mouth onto her face.

Bellatrix screamed in disgust so I lunged at her, sending us both sprawling into the water. Her palm hit my nose, but failed to break it, so I kicked out as hard as I could and must have caught her in the shin. I reached for my wand, but lost the notion as I hit the floor underwater, a large hand pulling my head up and pushing it back down to smack against the floor.

"Ascufan!" I screamed when I was pulled out of the water. Greyback was torn backwards and struggled against the barrier keeping him in place.

"Ascylfan!" The roar that came to life -as the werewolf in Greyback did, froze us all, but Greyback was already being torn apart. I desperately repeated the incantation until the werewolf's chest and forearms were bare of skin.

Bellatrix tackled me again and my back scraped against the bare rock and mud of the elevated floor. My hand struck out with my wand gripped in it and took off a line of my aunts forehead skin. She shrieked, backed up and fell into the water.

Arms wrapped around my shoulders to hoist me out of the water. I was shocked to see Potter behind me, but I refocused on Bellatrix to shoot a _diffindo _at her, just missing and sizzling into the water. Potter's voice yelled out an _expelliarmus_ and I joined him in a tirade of spells until a Jelly-legs Jinx caught her.

Snape's deep voice rang out over the hall, making everyone stop in their tracks. They all turned like children caught in a schoolyard fight, but I knew this was my only chance to do what I needed to.

While Snape trotted forwards, his dragon hide boots clicking on the wet ground, I silently did the same.

"What in god's name are you all doing?" The edge of anger in his tone masked the sound of me stepping into the water and striding to my aunt. She realized what was coming and breathed in to scream. As she was about to wail I cast a silencio to border between us and the others on the platform.

A teacher -Flitwick, was trying to explain what happened when he entered the hall as Greyback commended Snape to their aide.

My hand on Bella's neck, however, was all I could concentrate on.

I squeezed so hard that my hand hurt and my veins impressed under my skin, until I could feel her flesh in between my fingernails and skin.

"Your family" she tried to whisper, to reason.

"-Will be glad to be rid of you."

I lowered her into the water, her head beneath the water, he screams beneath the water, and waited.

To me it seemed like long, slow minutes passed, but it was really just seconds.

Bellatrix stopped struggling. She was finally dead..

I walked back to the platform, telling Severus with my eyes that it was done, although I was sure he could see Bellatrix floating on top of the water behind me. Potter was the only one who'd bothered to keep and eye on me. His green eyes were wide with shock and fear, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed and his shoulders tensed.

He extended a hand to me when I got back onto the platform and I silently cast a drying charm on myself. His hand caught mine again and squeezed firmly, his eyes sympathetic and sad.

Of all the people in the hall, only two would know what I'd lost during this battle. Although it was Bellatrix who I killed, although I should have felt good, like a hero who killed a villain, I felt disgusting and dirty, like my soul was bloodied by the deed.

My head swam with guilt, but I looked to Potter again. Potter was always so brave, a trait I'd admired since my own turmoil began at the end of fourth year. I screwed up my courage and put on a straight face, ready to handle cries of manslaughter. With another squeeze to my hand we walked forwards and I observed how three or four teachers surrounded each of the death eaters.

Greyback, Yaxley, Alecto and Amycus were tied up by _incarcerous_' from my wand. They struggled and cursed, yelling about how I would get what was coming to me, how the Dark Lord would seek vengeance. "Your father will disown you for this, you brat! He will kill you! Lucius is loyal only to the Dark Lord, like all Dark Wizards!" Yaxyley screamed, his eyes popping open.

"You're naive, Yaxley. You don't know anything about Dark Magick, and more so, you don't know anything about my family."

I strode towards him and reached out a hand to delicately tilt up his ugly chin. "My grandfather was a fool, neither my parents nor I would ever willingly associate ourselves with your ugly, ignorant, lowlife ass." I pinched his cheek as hard as I could and gave it a hard slap.

Severus stood at the doors to the Great Hall with one arm held open. I walked into arms, enveloped in the smell of wolfbane and Essence of Dittany. "Alaeson eower aglareca, Draca." He whispered, nuzzling my head once before pulling away.

Severus tried to smile at me, but it came out looking something like a grimace. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and stood facing the crowd of teachers in the still ruined Great Hall.

"I cannot see to Dumbledore until tomorrow, but Pomfrey will." He looked around at them again. "I will attend to the state of the hall in a few hours."

"I believe we should get your parents away from the manor, Draco." Surprised by the sudden insight, I let Severus guide me to the dungeons. The walk was long and silent, I thought perhaps Severus was upset with me. When I looked over, though, he was on the verge of laughing. The sweet crinkles that came to his eyes when he smiled were folded up and jumped as the first chuckle escaped my godfather.

"What's so funny?" I asked him, on the verge of laughing myself.

"You. Fighting with Greyback and Bellatrix. It looked more like a mud-wrestling match than a magic battle." Although I couldn't find the humor in the situation, I laughed as Severus did.

"When you kicked her, I thought she was going start pulling your hair or giving you a wet-willie." Severus laughed louder, and it occurred to me that he must have been laughing in the doors to the great hall while watching me and my aunt's fight.

I frowned at his behavior, the youth in his age. "That hurt you know. Greyback isn't exactly gentle."

"Well you did quite the damage to him, you know." He responded, now coming up to his rooms. Severus unlocked his door and let me into the rooms I was so familiar with.

I knew he'd been toying with the idea of letting me move into them so I could help him more often with brewing, but I was already endowed to keeping the Slytherins under my belt. I un-warded Sev's floo-network and stood back as he fire-called my father.

"I don't know how it started, Lucius! Would you just come in? ...Not safe there... Shut you pompous ass and get you and your wife here now before I re-lock the floo-network!" Severus finally yelled out of frustration. He whipped his head out of the flames and sat down with a 'humph'.

Five, then ten, then fifteen minutes passed. I began to worry that my parents had been attacked or were just too stubborn to leave the manor. Severus patted my hand, but remained silent. After an hour had passed, I got up to head into my Godfather's bedroom to sleep.

Just as I was lying down I thought I heard something outside, but it was only Severus as he laid down beside me, answering my silent request to keep me near. Although I wasn't fond of being patronized in any way, I didn't mind being the little spoon to Severus. His arms were stable around me and the sweet scent of Essence of Dittany was lulling me.

It was this way that I could sleep, the impending deaths of my parents hanging questioningly over my head.

Alaeson eower aglareca, Draca. - Pardon your sorrows, Draco (Don't feel bad for killing Bellatrix)

Words 4149


	2. Chapter 2

Author's notes - I need a beta, dammit. It's like my writers block just dissolved. I've made so many freaking attempts at this chapter, it's not even funny. And reading my own writing over and over and over to spell check and edit is discouraging. I listened to crystal castles, the knife and cults all night to encourage the atmosphere in my writing. I don't find myself to be particularly good, but every one has to start somewhere. Anyways, I don't apologize for the delay. I know, it's horrible and tense waiting for a new chapter of something to come out, or maybe no one feels that way about this fic (yet), but I've been trying, dammit. Every time I started to add on to ch.2 I'd decide I hate it and delete all. Oh well, 6000 down, 10 000 total, only 100 000 or so more to go. Good god. Anyways, trying to get into the psyche of Malfoy. Don't worry, it's not going to be one of those, "No one can touch him until the last chapter and he's always crying" fics. Oh no. There will be sex, and much of it. Also raves, drinking, drugs, old people sex, gay sex, straight sex, kinks and squicks. No worries, we're covered.

Anyways, hope you enjoy and have a good time waiting. Luckily it's spring break and I'm trying to be productive. Perhaps another chapter soon. I'm kind of finding my way with this one now, so cheers! Reviews always appreciated although obviously not obligatory.

Chapter 2 - Midnight, The Stars and You

Wednesday, June 16

I didn't sleep well. Graces to Poppy who put a re-healing spell on my heart before I was released from the hospital, and to Severus who was covered in the delightfully drowsy fumes of Essence of Dittany, my injuries did not hinder my sleep. My dreams, however, did just that. I kept waking up, wondering if my parents were alive. Sometimes I'd wake up dreading having to kill Dumbledore, forgetting that I'd converted. Other times I'd slam awake for no reason, and Severus would tiredly put me back to sleep.

When the alarm went off to wake Severus for another day of classes, we simply threw the thing against the wall. When a Slytherin knocked on the door to his office, we ignored it. Even when Potter came down, obliviously demanding to know if we were alright, again, through Sev's office door, we tried to sleep. My onyx eyed partner rolled onto his stomach and lay spread eagle for a time. I rolled over so I could lay my cheek on his back and wrap my arms around his waist, but that was the only movement I'd make.

Eventually we had to get up, although it was well past noon. He dressed differently today, just a loose white shirt, black trousers and suspenders. The effect of this was not lost on me: Severus was not brewing today. Since I was born he only did this four or five times, he always wore heavy black robes to protect his skin against the harmful fumes of potions. These clothes, however, made him look younger, even though his face spoke volumes of fatigue and misery.

"We should bathe before we leave here" I said to him, desperately wanting to rid myself of the filth of murder. He shook his head, "let it seep into you, Draco."

We left in silence, wishing for the aftermath of the battle over with. When we opened the door to Severus' office into the potion's class, a tirade of people were there to meet us. Ministry workers, mostly, and Arthur Wesley. I immediately felt the urge to burn his shoes or spit in his face, but Dumbledore distracted me with his entrance.

"Good morning Draco, Severus." When he nodded to me I caught a glimpse of warning. 'Don't say anything.'

"Mr. Malfoy, you are under arrest for practicing Dark Magic and for allowing Death Eaters entrance to Hogwarts school." The Minister said, looking grim.

"Oh you'd love that, wouldn't you?" I returned, biting my cheek afterwards. A flash of orange hair entered the room and I could just make out Rita Skeeter in the back of the crowd, working her way up. Throwing Dumbledore a dirty look I continued, calm and venomous. "To smear my family's name? Like you hadn't already done that? To finally shut me up about all those skeletons in the closet?"

"Mister Malfoy I command that you desist this inst-"

"A hundred and nine raids in my lifetime! With no cause for suspicion! And what about all the notorious Dark families? Over a thousand raids just in the Slytherin circle! What about my-"

"Silencio!" Yelled the Wesley, repulsed.

"You remove it this instant!" Calmly and seriously, Severus took a very small step forward.

"If Mister Malfoy wishes to speak, he may do so under controlled veritaserum in front of the Wizengamot." Said Lecher Fringes, the Minister's latest assistant. The Minister looked angry as well, but it was not so much he that I wished to hurt. That man, not Fudge, knew Dark wizards, and he knew about the Ministry's secrets. He dealt respect where it was needed and hardly ever harassed my family.

Dumbledore spoke firmly from beside me. "Arthur, you will remove that silencing spell immediately." Guiltily, the Wesley did so. I spat on his shoes.

Rita Skeeter would have gotten a picture of that if a loud "Oomph!" hadn't resounded around the room. Harry Potter, bless him, fell into the crowd and over Skeeter's feet, sending her to the ground.

"Fucking shoelaces!" The boy yelled as he whipped his head up.

A kerfuffle of reprimands went around and I laughed, Severus' lips quirked un-forgiving. Arthur Weasley stooped to try and pick the boy up, but an abrupt "don't bother" came from the Boy Who Lived. He rolled onto his back and tore away his trainers, throwing each across the room. "I fucking swear I'm going to fucking hex Ron the next god damn shitty time I see him!" Harry bellowed to the Weasley, making exaggerated hand motions as he did so.

He turned to me just as suddenly and in a concerned voice he asked "Are you alright? You were asleep for so long I was starting to think you may have just died because of Snape's horrendous ugliness!"

I had never been more... surprised.

Potter must have felt the same way, because his mouth hung open and his hands flew to clasp over it. After a moment he repeated "Fucking Ron!"

"Arthur, I wonder if you could fetch your son?" At Dumbedore's suggestion, the Weasley left, terrified. Then Dumbledore continued "and what exactly prompted Mr. Weasley to hex you, Harry."

"He has a fucking pussy that pussy fucking clit licking-"

"Thank you, Mister Potter."

Again the boy covered his mouth, the only sound that left it being a whimper of apology. I knew I must have been smiling at Potter because while he was wary of Snape after insulting him, he came to stand in front of me, hands over his face and head bowed in shame. As a gesture of support I ran a hand over Potter's arm and smiled at his face peeking out from behind his hands. He shook his head and, with conspiring eyes, whispered to me "What the bloody fuck will you do about Bellatrix?"

My heart sunk.

My head was spinning.

After a very loud, very loathsome conversation with Lecher Fringes and Arthur Weasley, not to mention a fist fight between Harry and Weasley Jr., I decided to lead the Ministry party on a chase. Potter had fired a hex at Ron, who said I threw it. Immediately the sparks of prosecution flew and I was devising methods of escape. I knew on some level that if I'd stayed in that room, Dumbledore would have protected me from immediate curses. However, even he was doomed to sacrifice me to punishment in a room of Ministry men.

Of course the most direct way to avoid trouble would be to A) run away and B) get hurt so I could stall being taken in to custody, so~

"He's here! I've almost got'im!" Cried Weasley, ironically, wheezing behind me.

"Honestly, Arthur, have some dignity!" The Minister replied from the corridor behind, waiting with Dumbledore, Snape and some of the less fit Ministry workers.

My head suddenly singed and burned and I leapt onto a moving staircase, now going upwards, twisting something painfully on the land. I summersaulted ungracefully as I reached the platform, and broke into another limping run. As more men's voices joined Weasley's and came closer at my delayed pace, a hand shot out of nowhere and tried to pull me in. I dodged only quick enough to fall down more stairs, and then more, and more. 'This school hates me' I thought as I was launched onto yet another flight of hard stone.

But then Dumbledore came into sight, looking bewildered at me. "Oh dear, that must hurt."

After he helped me up by the elbow I shrunk away, feeling very much like every bone in my body was broken.

"I'm afraid you may have to interrogate my student another day, perhaps when you have reigned some control over your men." He said to the minister, who was likewise looking terrified over my fall. Dumbledore held a glint in his eye. Another day indeed.

"Draco." With his arms held open Severus beckoned me into them. I felt really, really awful. I thought I may vomit, but I also thought I had a broken rib or two. "Are you alright, boy?" He murmured, not wanting to speak in front of the Minister.

"Nnnnnnnnggggh."

"Ow!" Poppy just finished resetting my bones when Rufus returned, now solely accompanied by Potter. The latter seemed to be lecturing Scrimgeour quite effectively on the lack of control he had over his employees. Potter then turned and poked Scrimgeour a few times in the chest. The man looked thoroughly annoyed, yet he kept his tongue.

Severus and Dumbledore left me after they had helped me into the hospital. "I must properly discipline the minister." Dumbledore brooded as he left. I could now see that the man thought the perfect punishment was to get Potter to do it for him. And I noticed that Potter was still swearing like he had been in Snape's classroom.

"-Granny fuckers! And don't let pussy get in your fucking way of pissing all over -" Green eyes found mine and Potter's speech trailed off. He smiled brightly at me and shuffled over to my bed side. His fingers sought out mine in the privacy of my blanket. His cheeks flushed, but he didn't let go.

"Are you feeling any better, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I feel like shit, thanks."

The minister sucked in his lips for a moment then realigned his face.

"I must apologize for how this morning transpired. I promise you it will be the last time I allow others to accompany me in matters of unrepresented Dark Wizards." Respect swelled in my chest at this man's mannerism.

"What about my parents?"

"We have not received contact with them yet, but I have sent my most accepting aurors to check on them. I realize that your parents must follow your decision to abdicate from Voldemort, so they will be given as much Ministry help as possible." The minister hesitated, but then said with open honesty "but your father is just so... he's so..." I laughed at the minister, "I know, you don't have to tell me."

Even Potter understood the underlying sentiment of resentment towards my father's attitude, but he kept his mouth shut _tight._

The Minister left, taking with him the atmospheric foreboding that had been hanging around me. I was still terribly worried about my parents, but I reasoned with myself that they were smart and had hundreds of escape routes around the manor to use in case things got to bad.

"Couldn't get Weasley to remove the spell?" I asked Potter. It was amazing to see him be quiet, considering the fact that he was usually always talking. "Midnight." Was all he could say.

Potter climbed onto my bed and yawned. I, too, was tired and snuggled into the covers. Potter following suite, his arm hung loosely over me.

We looked at each other as minutes passed by. As soon as my eyes closed for the first time, Potter cuddled farther into me, his head against my neck. I held Potter obligingly, and we slept.

Thursday, June 18

I woke first. The moon hung high up and Potter was still snoozing cutely.

We were alone in the infirmary. I was momentarily lost as to what to do with myself without anyone lording over me. Potter was starting to blink into consciousness. He rubbed his eyes and wiggled around in the covers.

"Mmmm... Draco?"

I looked down at Potter. His limbs reached out in an attempt to relieve his drowsiness. His face scrunched and relaxed. His toes curled and uncurled. I couldn't help but smile at the prat.

"Why are you hanging around me, Potter?" I bit down my reflex to insult Potter. I was curious about our new found comfort. Potter seemed to be seeking me out.

"Umm..."

I laid on my belly to look at him properly. Potter made a face. I wasn't sure what it was depicting. Some strange mix of hurt and anger and curiosity or... need.

"I can't really say..." Potter muttered. I must have looked affronted because he quickly added "not that I don't want to... I mean, it's not like I bloody well have it figured out yet... It's all just mixed up and... kind of..." He stared off into space, shifting as he did so. His shirt rose up and I laid a hand on his belly. It was warm and hard with muscles. Potter looked back to me at the contact. "Kind of what?"

He struggled and shifted his eyes, bit his lip, furrowed his brow. "Depressing."

I stared at Potter for a while. Willing him to talk. Or not to talk. His face spoke volumes of conflicting emotions. To tell Draco, or not to tell Draco. "You don't have to tell me. Wizards come to be in their own time." Potter eyes seemed to shine for a moment. He smiled at me, he snuggled back beneath the covers. Midnight had long since past. We stayed up all night talking. Sometimes our conversation would veer towards darker matters, other times it would be playful and light. I did not wonder how I could be so comfortable around him.

Friday, June 19

I slept until noon and woke to find some rather unpleasant company. Surprisingly, Potter found it to be unpleasant as well.

"Harry!" Granger jumped off her chair to hug Potter the moment he sat up. My unease from days previous returned subtly at Potter's face.

A chorus of greetings came from the other visitors in the room. Namely Finnigan, Thomas, Longbottom, Weasley female and Luna Lovegood.

"Don't forget me now you prat." Blaise said from the chair next to my bed. He smiled one of those "your such a tosser" smiles and turned to Potter. "An' you've been keeping him out of trouble, yea?"

Potter looked flummoxed for a moment. "You're joking... right?"

Blaise burst into a chorus of laughter and slapped me few times on the back. His eyes crinkled in that way that showed proof that Slytherins DO smile. He was my living, bet winning proof that they do. Michael Corner certainly learned his lesson about assuming things of Slytherin. He was rather excited when he thought he might provide some sexual favors for either of us, but we handed him off to Pansy.

I like to feel that that little gag had some profound affect on the boy. He changed, became slightly more slytherin. He smirked, teased and tricked now. I looked back to Potter. He, too, was partly Slytherin. As if I couldn't tell at the sorting ceremony that Potter was supposed to be a Slytherin. For all the time that he argued with the Sorting Hat, and with the idea already planted in his head, how could it not have almost happened.

"Ahem... Anyways, thought you boys could use some more... um... bearable company before Snape arrives to give you your daily scolding, Draco." I moaned. Indeed, I was due for a bullocking any time now. "By the way, the Minister sends his regards, Potter, and hopes you've..."

"Oh god." Potter turned a bright shade of red. "Why does he put me up to these things."

"Who?" Granger asked, trying to gain some ground for her party in the conversation. "Brian", answered Potter.

"Brian Gammot?" Asked the Weasley female.

Potter was, again, flummoxed. He had the look like we should know something. "Dumbledore?" I asked, trying to help the others catch up.

"Yeah." Potter now said. He realized that we did not know how he addresses the headmaster in private.

"I saw that yesterday. Scrimgeour looked ready to just walk right out on you. Do tell, what do granny fuckers have to do with the ministry?"

"Oh god... I really don't know." Potter turned red again. He was desperately trying not to look at the Gryffindors or Lovegood. Blaise provided distraction as he spluttered and laughed. "I'm lost!" He laughed and his eyes crinkled, "what did you say, Potter?"

The Gryffindors seemed to be conspiring at the end of our bed. After ten minutes bantering of we three Slyhterins, or semi-Slytherins, they started speaking in hushed tones to one another. They glanced at us as we also continued to speak. Without breaking the beat of banter I addressed them."Are you actually discussing Potter's affairs right here? Don't you have any respect? Conspiracy is supposed to be done in a dark room away from the intended victim."

Potter looked to them, then to me. He didn't have the sense to be angry yet. He looked to Lovegood and Longbottom, standing together outside the circle of conspicuousness. "They have no reason to work against you, Harry." Luna said. She drifted towards us, on Blaise's said. Harry looked at his lap. He didn't have the will to lie to her. "Do they?" She asked now, looking very concerned. But to her, Harry Potter wasn't lying in a bed with evil Death Eater Draco Malfoy. To her it was Harry Potter lying in a bed with her good friend Draco Malfoy.

"It's a rather personal matter, Luna." I tried to explain to her, although I wasn't sure what it was.

"Oh." She smiled back and clasped both our hands. Blaise eyed her with a wry smirk. He'd always liked Luna, and he'd always wanted to strike up a conversation with her even before I did. It was only by chance that she and I did ever really speake to one another. We were both feeding the thestrals at the same time, and later that day Trewlaney placed me with her for Divination. Luna really was quite clever, though; She often gave me inspiration for a new potion or spell. I had yet to try my hand at a contagious laughter potion.

"You told him? You really are a -"

"So what if he is? What's wrong with that?" Neville interrupted Granger. Up until this point she'd been passive, but now she shook her head and stormed out of the room.

"My goodness." Exclaimed Finnigan. He shifted as he stood, switching his hands from his hips to behind his head. "Well that's one way to put someone in a mood, eh? Just needs a good shag, the hag."

"Seamus?" Potter intoned.

"What?" the startled brunet asked. Potter scrutinized him.

"I don't give a shit what they think, Harry. I know you." He gave a sloppy grin and turned to Blaise, eyebrow raised, "And I'd like to know _you _better too."

Blaise blanched. "Draco," he turned to me, "why does everyone think I'm gay?"

"It's not that, Blaise. It's just that women are cautious enough _not to_ make a pass at you." I grinned wickedly at him. In fact, Blaise didn't care what gender someone was, his sex-record was still unmarred. By _anyone. _

Now Finnigan and Thomas were arguing in harsh whispers. Finnigan seamed to be supplying that he didn't care what people thought of Potter. Thomas replied by calling him and idiot and walking out. "Dean?" Potter pleaded as he was leaving. Thomas turned just enough so I could see him sneer. "Piss off, Potter."

"Uh Oh." Finnigan then said. "Better put out the fire. Bye Harry. Bye to the rest." He stopped in his tracks and squinted at me. His face broke into a suspicious smile. "See you around, Malfoy."

Next was the Weasley female. She came up to Potter's side of the bed, looking glum as she did so. "Owl mum, alright?" She sounded absolutely depressed. She hugged Potter's head to her chest and kissed the top of his head. Then she turned and left. "Ginny?" Potter was desolate now. She didn't even stop to look back, she just started walking faster.

"I'm not going anywhere, Hare." Said Longbottom. He pulled up a chair loudly next to the grieving Potter. He grabbed his hand, and looked at the rest of us.

It wasn't totally unpleasant, having a conversation between the five of us. When Potter pulled on his brave face things greatly improved. We all knew it was a sham, but the unspoken support was there. Even from Blaise who'd never really spoken to Potter before. Now they were deeply engrossed in making fun of my father's wardrobe.

"Doesn't matter." Blaise resolved to say. "I still find him sexy."

Potter spluttered and I moaned. Blaise was always on about this. He liked older men, especially Snape. Then again, he liked older women too. Although he didn't share Sev's and my affections for MacGonagall, he'd always secretly fancied Rita Skeeter, and I often found him wanking to her picture.

At lunch Sev came and visited us. He looked so tired, I tried to convince him to go bed. "I don't need sleep, Draco, you do." He intoned. The good part of the visit was watching Neville try to bear his presence. "Breathe, Longbottom, or have you forgotten how." Neville sucked in a breath and spat back "No, but you certainly seem to have forgotten how to shower you old hermit."

Sev laughed, surprising Neville out of his chair. He actually stood up abruptly and just hung there loosely. "You've grown a pair, Longbottom. Congratulations."

Blaise turned our attention with a poorly bitten back noise. "I have a pair." He said right to Sev's face. Of course those two had been used to each other for years already. They did beat around the bush Not Flirting. Sev looked right back at him and quirked an eyebrow. "I know."

Blaise now stood up. "I have to wank." He said and walked around the bed. He grabbed Snape by the shoulders and shook him shallowly, tore the first few buttons of Snape's shirt, trembling with self control, and left. Snape displayed the same expression of amusement to me. Harry, I could tell by his silence, was disturbed.

"What just happened?" He asked me when Sev left to stir some potion or another. "Just a bit of the usual." We shared a smile.

Sunday, June 21

Potter had a nice smile. I was quickly becoming used to his presence, but we fought sometimes. I think it's because he is so stressed out about his ever decreasing social circle.

The day after I left the hospital I vowed to find him and cheer him up. Two nights sleeping with him made me miss him now.

I checked the second floor bathroom, the library, the lake and even pounded on the door to Gryffindor. "He's not here." Remarked Thomas rather snidely. Bubbling over with frustration, I slipped on my self control and found Dean Thomas lying on the floor to the entrance of the lion's den with a broken nose. I stormed into the room and just stared at all the stupid, careless Gryffindors. "Malfoy?" Asked Neville. He was sitting with Seamus in a window seat. It seemed that they were also being isolated in the tower for being on Harry's side of whatever problem he was facing. "You look like shit, Malfoy" remarked Seamus. He smiled brightly.

"Where's Potter?" I asked. I was irritable. The concept that anyone could be so cruel to Potter was completely ridiculous, although not alien.

"Dunno, mate. Thought'e was with you."

"You fucktard. What does it matter to you anyway?" Weasley Jr. curled his lips in distaste. I advanced on him. Between the fact that he knew I was very dangerous and incredibly Dark, he backed up. We matched steps, but not looks. I was glaring to kill. He was frightened.

"Friends take care of each other. They look out for each other. Or at least that seams to be the case with Slytherins. You Gryffindors are only rumored to have courage, and yet when your struck with a problem you can't handle it. You turn traitor, coward. You are a coward Weasley. You are disgusting. How could you turn your back on Potter, you filthy," on more step forward, "untrustworthy," another and Weasley was backed into a wall, "back-stabing," I grabbed his greasy cheeks in between long fingers, scratching him as I did so, "blood-traitor."

I moved my head. Dean Thomas' fist connected with Weasley's face and I threw my elbow back, catching him in the esophagus. Thomas fell to the ground but Weasley slung his fist forward. A hand on his shoulder and the right placement of feet, I flipped him onto his back. I turned slowly, watched as Weasley would coward. Just like me when I was a child, just like this but now the tables have turned.

"Don't think I can't fight." I put a foot on either side of him. "Your father taught me enough about that."

"You shut up about my father!" He spat. Saliva landed in my eye. I reached down and pulled him up by the collar, the fear in his eyes.

"You know the truth about your father, Weasley." I hit him in the eye. "You know what he did to my family." I hit him again. "My home." Again. "And my-"

"That wasn't his-"

"It was his order, Weasley. Every bit his fault. The blood on his hands, and he personally accompanied the aurors." I hit him hard this time, his head thudded against the floor. I picked him up again. "What about me?" I eyed my hand, nodding slightly towards it. Weasley looked at the long scar on my hand. "You know how much that one hurt, Weasley? But I was used to it by then. You know how long it took to heal? How much it bled? How much my mother cried? You know my father had to hold me down while she reattached it? My throat was so soar from screaming, but we couldn't go to the hospital because that night your aurors hexed each other to make everyone believe we attacked them." I hit Weasley again. "And that was all a lie. You know that your father isn't who he pretends to be, and your family stands by and watches while it happens. Your family loves children, yea? Apparently only their own. I was seven, Weasley." I spat on him. "You don't deserve a friend like Potter. You've lied to him for so long, you can't even stand to be around him because you can't handle the shame."

"Ron?" It was Ginny. She looked so utterly confused. "Oh don't tell me she doesn't know?" I smirked at him and the fear increased.

"Don't you dare, Malfoy!" He yelled, but now it was Weasley female's turn. "You want to know all about it, don't you?" She nodded like she was possessed, like in second year. A small revenge by my father, but it was still oh so satisfying.

"Ginny!" Weasley tried to shout, but I stepped on his throat.

I sneered, oh sweet day. "It's not worth it, Weasley." Oh, the mercy of Malfoys is wrath. Apparently Weasley male thought so too. He threw me off balance and lunged at me, a fire burning to fight. So we did, but I had the upper hand. I knew my nose was broken, and maybe my ribs from when he crashed me into the hard stone in front of the fire place. But I got him a few more times in the face. In the leg, in the side, the stomach. His trousers ripped and a painful shrug against pad of carpet tore my shirt mostly open, except for a few buttons at the bottom.

Now, in addition to the urge to fight, there was also sexual tension. He grabbed my hips or pushed me down by the shoulders, but it would just conjure cold fury from me. I landed on top of him, straddling his hips, and placed one hand on his throat and the other on his side. "Yea, I'm used to this too Weasley, another joy of your father's raids." He tried bucking his hips to dislodge me, but I locked my legs around him "I don't get scared any more. It only hurts for a little while before the feeling just dies inside of you. Then what are you left with." I scratched my thumbnail across his nipple and moved that hand down to cup his crotch under my own. "Best part of it is" I said as I reeled back to sit on his lap, "knowing that they go home and pretend it never happened. But I'm always left there to pick up the pieces, put on clothes, clean up the blood." I cupped my hand tighter, Weasley bit back a groan. "You know what I see?"

He shook his head vehemently. "Truth. You coward."

A curse. Crucio, I think, from Dean Thomas. This was familiar territory. I rode it out in pleasure. I rode it out on Weasley, and as conscious as I was at the time, had to make him understand my endurance. I parted my lips, closed eyes, arching back. Perfect. Not an orgasm. The pain inhibited it, but the pain was beautiful. I gripped Weasley's shoulder, _hard. _My legs cramped around his, my hips ground down. The only way to cope with the pain was to cooperate with it. My head tilted back, my eyebrows furrowed, I sigh.

And when the curse ended, when Thomas came to his senses and dropped his wand -the curse only lasted a few seconds-, I got up, legs shaking. I looked down at Weasley with my bloodied face, serene, hating, burning. He is petrified. He pities me. He starts to understand something. He starts to speak, "I-"

I hit the wall behind me. I feel dead. I feel fulfilled. Something hums in me: shame. But not for myself. For all the men who made me this way. "You think it's alright; Can't you feel the knife?"

I was leaving the room. My legs carried me that way, but stopped. They noticed before I did. Potter. Harry. Standing there like all the world was coming into a great prophecy. He didn't pity me, hate me. He wasn't supposed to feel for me at all. But the concern in his eyes was so real. And then hatred. I could feel it coming to a head. His denial was setting in. I hadn't just sexually assaulted his friend, -oh no, oh...

No. He turned to Weasley. He was furious. "I hate you."

He took my hand, slowly -he was scared he might damage me, as if-. He intertwined our fingers, let his gaze soften, let his direction guide me.

Something in me had cracked. Yes, I had just admitted to a horrible part about my past to a room of Gryffindors. Yes, I aroused Weasley. Yes, I enjoyed it. But something changed. It was like my feelings were now just that; feelings. Never before released from their cage, and all I wanted to do was shove them back inside of it. I felt like crying. Or screaming. Or hurting something. Maybe like hurting myself. Maybe like laying down and gripping the couch as hard as I could until it stopped. It was like a symphony in my head. Unending, loud, invasive. Potter guided me. He took me to a tower on the East side of the castle, a place I never cared to venture. It was close to Trewlaney's classroom, but closed off. He whispered to it, a password, no doubt given to him by Dumbledore. Inside was a room. Just a room. There was a kettle on the window sill, some cups, a few chairs, a couch. There was a bed on the far wall, the wood and mattress curved to fit the curves of the circular room. The windows were massive. Three of them from floor to ceiling, a balcony just outside with a red railing. The floor was stone. There was a fireplace and a bookshelf. This room was magically enhanced to be bigger on the inside. It was so welcoming I hadn't thought to comment on it. Potter pulled me over to the couch under a separate, slightly smaller window next to the three larger ones. The view was of the lake, shining and blue in the daylight. I couldn't sit down, not yet. I got back up and stood uselessly. Potter sighed and took me to the balcony. He called a house elf -my house elf from when I was young, Dobby, I think- and ordered something. As I watched the lake Potter pressed a warm cup into my hands. I felt a pain in my side and my face and turned to watch as Potter swished his wand at me. "Does anything else hurt?" He asked, eyeing the blood on my face and ridding it with a scourgify. I shook my head.

He didn't have anything more to say about our problems, either. "So Snape and Blaise?" He quirked an eyebrow.

I found myself smiling. _Really _smiling. It was funny. As much as I'd always tried to be comfortable and unmoved by Severus and Blaise's flirtation, now I found it comical. I laughed with Potter. "Blaise has fancied him since he just started potions. He drew a picture of them together in a big heart with Blaise in a wedding dress."

"Ewwwwwwwwww!"

The laughter came again. And with it, trivial things. No war, no rape, no torture. Just quidditch. N.E.W.T.S. Umbridge's wardrobe. Things that were suddenly so much more important than what had happened with Weasley.

When we talked, my tension left. When my tension left, my legs felt tired. We sat down and drank a dozen cups of tea. Harry abused his influence on my elf and ordered sweets. It was fun, talking to Potter. And then night fell, and with it the trepidation that nightmares would come. Potter sensed my unease.

"I don't want to go back to Slytherin yet."

"So don't."

We talked about him and the Gryffindors. He continued to be secretive about his issue and I continued to give him privacy. We talked about my parents.

"I hope their alright." He tried a guilty smile, but I could see his cringe.

"You would get along so well with my father."

I talked about my father's amazing cooking and baking. I talked about my mother's not so skilled attempts at those areas. I talked about the balls, the dinners, the summers. He listened raptly and then told me about his parents. Then about Sirius, and then Remus.

"Thank you." He said, finishing his seventh cup of tea. "For killing Bellatrix. I wanted to. _I would have._" He rushed to say, although displeased at the thought of killing. "She deserved so much worse."

When a clock in the room tolled one, and the stars and moon shined through the window, we knew it was time for bed. I had no pajamas, but apparently I didn't need them. Potter gave me a new toothbrush and we brushed and flossed together. I felt like a shower but dismissed it. When it was time to get into bed, things were different from before. Instead of Potter just getting in and me already being there, we both had to get in at the same time. I stripped out of my clothes down to my boxers and found Potter watching me, entranced. It made me feel dirty all over again, I shivered. "I'm sorry." He tried to press on, but I stopped him with a pointed look. "It's just you, Harry." And it was. No Mad Eye Moody. No Leches Fringes. No auror. No man forcing the door to my bedroom down. The dirty feeling dissolved.

Potter also got down to just his knickers. He stood there looking utterly ashamed for having checked me out.

I stared at him until he looked up and locked eyes. I smiled at him and took his hands, placing one on my side and keeping the other up. And we started, slowly. And the magic of the evening was really there; a record fell into play by the door, playing Edith Piaf's "La Vie En Rose". We swayed. We laughed as we danced, moving around the furniture of the room like couples on a dance floor. We tripped over Harry's broom and stumbled over some dirty clothes, laughing as we went. We danced for a half an hour, and when the record got to "Midnight, The Stars and You", we climbed into bed.

"Harry-" I said when we were beneath the covers. "I'm cold." He was lost again. I inched over to him, slid one arm under him and ran a hand through his hair, settled it under his arm with my hand on the nape of his neck. He kept one hand on my shoulder between us and the other scooped around me. He touched our foreheads together.

The crickets sang, as did Al Bowlly.

"Midnight with the stars and you

Midnight and a rendez-vous

Your eyes held a message tender

Saying "I surrender all my love to you"

Midnight brought us sweet romance

I know all my whole life through

I'll be remembering you

Whatever else I do

Midnight with the stars and you"

"Thank you, Harry."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer : I do not own Harry Potter, because if I did, I wouldn't have ended the series so badly. I mean really, Lily? Albus? Severus? And christ, why did he marry Ginny anyways? Well, not making any money off this fic, all characters owned by J.K. Rowling!

Well here we go. Chapter three. I'm surprised I'm even still alive, considering how few hours I've slept in the last week. I have this huge room with huge windows, but I'm cursed, I SWEAR! Every morning in spring, summer AND fall, the sun rises just perfectly to burn my retinas through my eyelids. So even though I go to bed at 5 A.M after having written for hours, I can't sleep in past 9. Then I get up and do it all again. I need a beta. Just some outer input, you know?

Chapter four soon, still bored, still spring break, still inspired. There will be smut soon, possibly in the next chapter. Errrrrrg. Slurpy time. Damn grocery shopping. Oh well, I will be getting some vitamin D for the first time in a week. And my cat won't have to endure sitting on my knees while I write, the poor thing. Reviews always appreciated but not obligatory. Although, maybe I should make them obligatory... Only in a perfect world, hahaha.

Red Moon Rising - Chapter Three, We Live On

Monday, June 22

In the morning we laid in bed, unmoving. Rain lightly spattered the window next to Harry's bed.. The sun shone through the heavy rain clouds. "Morning." He'd whisper, still groggy. I was in Potter's arms, so comfortable I thought I may never move again. Our chests were pressed together. Potter wrapped both arms around me and rolled over in the bed. "What was that?" I laughed.

"Mmmm... I wanted to move but I didn't want to scare you away."

"You could never scare me away, you're just a Slytherin like the rest of us."

"Oh really? Suppose we can't play on opposite quidditch teams now? Too bad, I was looking forward to beating you." He smirked wryly. I ruffled his hair. "If I could just use a sporwig, I'd beat you a thousand times over!" I returned.

"What's' a sporwig?" He said. He was genuinely curious.

"It's like a broom for Dark Wizards. Not so refined, that's all. It relies more on the wizards magic than the broom's."

"What's it look like?"

"A branch with leaves." Of course Potter had never seen one, but I thought he'd at least know about it.

"That sounds really uncomfortable!" He said. I laughed at him again, shaking my head.

"It's not like that. You probably won't be seeing them for a while still. They were banned as' Dark Magic', but that's just stupid. How can a broom be used for evil?"

Now Potter was laughing. "I don't know, maybe you throw them at people?"

"Potter!" I exclaimed, giggling, "Potter, that's stupid!"

We rolled over again so that now I was on top of him. "Well then I'm out of ideas." He pouted, not holding it for more than a second. Smiling, I burrowed my head in his neck, my nose nuzzling his jaw line. Wrapped up together, it was like the Gryffindors didn't even exist.

A bit of mischief entered me then. "You a virgin, Potter?" I wiggled my eyebrows.

"Oh!" He sat straight up, making me get on my hands and knees to avoid a re-broken nose. "Um..."

"Really? Every girl in Hogwarts wants to shag you and your a virgin?"

"No!" He quipped back, "It's just, I'm not like a man whore or anything!"

A long silence passed as Potter's face changed in degrees of embarrassment. I burst out laughing when it reached maximum capacity, rolling onto my back. He rolled his eyes, reached his arms up to pin mine down. "It's not funny, Draco" he said through his smiling, "I just don't usually talk about my sex life!"

"Oh god!" I exclaimed. "Let's have a chat Potter!" I rolled him back over, sitting on his lap. "Common, Potter, let's share, now!"

"No!"

"Yea!" To make point of my advantage, I tickled him. Apparently it was torture because he repeated "No! No no no no no! No tickling! Okay! Okay!"

I relented. "Okay, oh god. Promise not to tell?

I nodded eagerly.

''Fleur Delacour..."

"Astounding" I said to him. "And you?" He asked back.

"I've never had sex, Potter, but I've done _things._" I wiggled my eyebrows at him again. "I've given blow-jobs to Blaise before." I smirked, but Potter seemed really, very interested in that. I smacked him in the arm. "Your turn."

"Maddison Glasgow, the fifth year. She was very... flexible."

"She's a Ravenclaw, yea?" I asked. It seemed Potter had good taste. He nodded, but his blush was receding. "Okay, I've rutted with Michael Corner."

"What's rutting?"

"It's where you grind against each other till you cum." Now Potter's interest was really picking up. "I topped Seamus, once."

"Oh, didn't think you went both ways, Potter. Okay, I give head to Daphne some times."

"You like that, don't you Draco?" Now I could feel his hardness pressing into my groin. "I've never tried. But I've had head given to me by Cho Chang."

We both cringed at that.

"All right, ew... I let Blaise go between my thighs. It felt amazing." Potter made a confused face. "It's like fucking between your thighs when their closed." I looked around shiftily. "I let him go between my cheeks, too. He came on my back."

"Oh god." Potter bucked his hips, holding them against him. He immediately tried to apologize, but I forced him down by the shoulders. "Do you have a shower, Potter?"

He shook his head, trying to concentrate on what I'd just said. "There's a bath downstairs."

I grabbed his hand and found the staircase downstairs. There was another circular room. The bath was a large semi-circle against the wall with three identical windows to those upstairs. On the other side was just a tiled floor covered in house plants, and a door presumably leading to the bathroom.

I dropped Potter's hand and moved to the bath tub. I dropped to my knees once inside of it and slowly turned the taps on, my knees wet with the different color waters. I turned back to Potter, willing him to come in. He did, in slow strides as if unsure how to proceed. He reached the edge of the tub, made his way down the steps. He got onto his knees beside me, turned to me with curiosity.

"Shorts, Potter."

"Yours too."

I stood up, making sure he kept his eyes on me. I slid my hands down my sides and to my front, hooking thumbs into the waistband of my shorts. I slid them down my hips slowly. Potter sucked in a breath when my cock first started to show, and held it until they dropped into the pool of water. I ran a hand through his hair, he licked his lips. Apparently giving head was now added to Potter's list of 'Things to do'. I got back onto my knees and used the same movements to pull his shorts down. He was still hard, and when our shorts were tossed onto the floor out of the bath, he pulled our hips together. He moaned, I sighed.

"Fuck." He cursed under his breath. He squeezed my ass and I groaned, closed my thighs so his cock was pressed between them, he pressed forward, my head tilted back. "Draco?" I tried to focus back on him. He looked troubled. "Your not enjoying this."

We looked down at my flaccid cock. As much as I didn't want to explain this now, I shook my head at Potter. "I am. But it's harder for me, after all that's happened."

A look of understanding passed over his face and he scooted back.

"Don't do that Harry."

"We shouldn't be-"

"It helps me recover."

He stopped talking. It was the truth, but I didn't tell him how much time it usually took me to be comfortable doing these things. With Potter, it seemed to come naturally.

"Oh." He furrowed his brow and reached out to touch my hip again.

"Come here." I whispered. He did so, entranced, and I stroked his cock at the first chance. Potter's skin glowed healthily. He had a nice, lean figure with muscles. He had scars, too, but they all had such amazing stories behind them, I didn't mind. His hair became damp with the steam. I continued to stroke him until his breaths became pants. I pushed him down onto one of the steps in the bath and turned away from him. I let his cock slid in between my thighs again and again, Potter grabbed my hips and started to control the motion. The water didn't quite reach us yet. It was all smooth from his pre-cum. "Oh god, Draco!" He'd pant in my ear. I let myself enjoy it, let my head fall back onto his shoulder. His cock pressed again and again against my sac and cock, I felt a pulling in my abdomen.

Potter went rigid beneath me, "Fuck, Draco!" I felt his cum on my sac and he pulled me back so were were pressed front to back. He kissed my neck and grabbed my cock, pulling in firm strokes until I started to roll on his hips, almost there.

"Turn around, Draco." I did as I was told. Potter got on his knees and took me in his mouth. It seemed to only take a minute, I was so overcome with pleasure. When I came, Harry made an unpleasant face but swallowed. I sunk back down to sit on the step next to him.

We smiled at each other.

"My folks think I've gone crazy

And I don't feel too sure

And yet there's nothin' wrong with me

That weddin' bells won't cure."

We laughed while we sang. "I didn't think you'd like this kind of music." I said. Honestly, I thought he'd be into modern muggle crap.

"No, I grew up with this stuff. I used to put it on when no one was home to make cleaning the house more bearable." He smiled at me. I knew he didn't have the best childhood, but it was better than mine.

We were dancing again. Now clean, we only bothered to put on shorts and started to sway. "How long have you had this place, Potter? Can't imagine you've made it this dirty in just a week."

"I've had it for a year, actually. I needed some space after Sirius passed, and, well, Dumbledore understood. He's not supposed to but he does give me special treatment cause I'm always putting myself out there for this war."

"Aw" I started, "I should get one of these."

"Why don't you ask him?" He said, looking a bit hopeful.

"I have to take care of the Slytherins. There's no one looking out for them in this bloody place except for me and Snape. Dumbledore has to take care of the rest of the school."

Potter seemed to concede to my point. "But why do you have to take care of them?"

"My family has protected Dark Wizards for millennia. They look to us to keep them safe against light wizards. I suppose it makes sense. We know more about magic than any other sorcerers alive or dead."

Potter eyes burned with a question, no doubt about this issue he was having. He nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line. I sighed.

"Harry, whatever you have to ask me, I won't judge you." He wasn't convinced. "I think I already know what it is." I stopped dancing and put my hands in his hair, kissed his lighting shaped scar.

Now his eyes really burned. He didn't know if I understood the whole picture. I started, "A wizard is Dark for three possible reasons, Harry. First is that they are born Dark, but the only wizards of our generation that came into magic that way are myself and Blaise. Second, if they are raised Dark, like all the Slytherins. Third way," I pressed his cheeks to keep his wandering attention, "is if you've been touched by Dark Magic. Usually it leaves a mark."

I eyed his scar, he watched me. "We -the Slytherins-, we've just been waiting for you to ask on your own." I sighed again. Potter seemed to be recoiling on himself, facing a deep internal hardship.

"It doesn't mean your evil Harry. It means that you can understand all magic, not just one side."

Potter sat down heavily on his bed. He didn't want me to touch him, even to look at him. Although he was yearning for some comfort, for something to help him understand.

"Do you want me to go?"

He nodded. This place was for him to have space, afterall. But I changed my mind about leaving as I watched him. "Fuck it," I said as I sat down next to him. "I want to stay with you."

He turned very quickly, ready to kick me out. Silence dragged on while I pleaded with my eyes not to be kicked out.

"Your so selfish." He said, turning away spitefully.

"I don't want you to be alone right now."

"Then find somebody else." He glared at me. It hurt, really, that after all that had happened in the last week, I'd not be aloud to help Potter when it was time to.

"No. You need a Dark Wizard to explain these things to you." He looked very hard at me. "It should be a friend." He turned back to the wall. I knew something of Potter's guilt complex, though. "After I let you touch me-" I started, pulling out the hurt I knew was somewhere inside, "and you can't trust me back to take care of you." I let my voice drop to a whisper, "I can't trust you." Now that I thought about it, it was hurtful.

Harry looked shocked. A sense of guilt was dawning on him. "Draco-"

"Don't bother-" I got up to leave, to walk out on him. He grabbed my wrist, the springs of the bed creaked as he got up.

"What am I going to do?" Dark emeralds brightened under dark eyelashes.

"_Trust me._"

Wednesday night, June 25

Harry walked with me to Slytherin. We'd spent the last two days in his flat going over our notes for finals. We also conveniently didn't have time to discuss Harry's coming into Dark Magic. I didn't mind. He could take as much time as he needed.

Now, though, his curiosity was leading. We entered the main chamber leading to the Slytherin common room, the one Harry originally thought _was _the common room when he snuck in years back, and continued forward. I lead him down a long hallway that just got darker until we were walking in the pitch black. I pressed my finger to a spot on the wall -a prick to take a bit of blood- and waited for the double doors appeared. I held one open for Harry, but he didn't move. He was marveling at the beauty of the Common Room.

"Good god. I never knew it was like _this._"

He looked up, down and around. The ceiling of the room was actually just a thick dome of glass. On the other side of it was the black lake. Lake weeds and Grindylows swayed above us. The walls were stone but bathed in wax. The wax held wicks outward from the wall, small fires providing us both light and heat. The floors were bedrock covered in a soft moss carpet, charmed not to have any bugs and not to stain clothes. The room itself was huge. Chairs and couches of growing pieces of oak and elm, cushioned and padded, formed small circles around the room, each one centered with a coffee table. Inside the tables were fireplaces. Outside the central dome you could see towers with smaller domes. Each tower had windows displaced all over them. In the center of the room a great elm stood. It's branches drew smaller as they reached the dome and curved outwards until the branches climbed down the walls, over the floor and back to the stump. Again, this tree was charmed not to hold any bugs.

As I pulled Harry into the room his eyes did not leave the dome.

"Draco!" We both jumped as the chorus rang. Blaise was the first to greet us. "An' where have you two been the past three days, hm?"

"Holed up in his room." I replied, shrugging off my robe. "You've been in Gryffindor tower for three days? Why?"

"I have my own rooms, actually." Harry supplied. Blaise took on a look of envy.

"Imagine all the shagging you could do in your own rooms." He pouted.

Harry blushed. I hadn't let him try anything with me since the first day, not even to snuggle at night. The understanding that I'd moved to fast for my own good was now holding me back from reaching out to Potter in a sexual way.

"Oh, Potter is here." Said Pansy. She stalked over to us like a cat, eyeing Harry. "Bout' time you came down here, Potter. We were starting to think the Ministry had had some sort of profound effect on you."

"That would have been a pity!" Said Nott. He shook Harry's hand. "Come on, then, let's get on with the pleasantries." He sounded rather excited about it.

"Actually," I interrupted, taking Harry's hand again, "we have to have a chat."

Pansy, Blaise and Theo all took up duties when I said that.

"Meeting!" Blaise shouted. Pansy slunk onto a nearby chair and Theo kicked two into place for Harry and I at the front of the room. The Slytherins looked at me and set about making one large circle with the chairs. Harry sat himself down on his chair cross-legged. I sat on my chair's back, elbows on my knees, conspiring face in place. Harry observed.

"I've officially abdicated." I said, trying to sound as certain and strong as possible. The Slytherins seemed unaffected. "I see you've all heard, then." I turned to Harry. He held the look of all matured acceptance for my situation. His eyes turned downwards, a grimace coming over his features. "I haven't heard from my parents in a week. We have no idea if they are still alive. Severus talked to them on the night of the battle, but they couldn't leave the manor."

A deep silence had settled. From the corner of my eye I could see Blaise draw a cross with his finger. The Slytherins followed the motion, as did I. Vertical and horizontal, like was the way of the world. Potter looked confused. After a moment's pause he repeated it, looking into my eyes as he did so. I nodded and turned back to the Slytherins. Before I could speak, Astoria Greengrass cleared her throat. "What's Potter doing here?" Some of her neighboring housemates shushed her. Harry didn't take his eyes off of Greengrass. He stared her down until she visibly shrunk away. He grimaced again. I locked eyes with Greengrass and swept them over the room, making sure to be very clear. "He's where he belongs."

I suppose Potter was expecting a reaction, but not one of rejoice. Some Slytherins cheered, others patted him on the back or shook his hand. "Bout time," said Goldstein, "thought you might be heading back to the Weasleys for summer. But no one deserves to be fooled by light wizards, eh Potter?"

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, his lips drew together in a thin line. "I don't condone what Arthur did, and I am not going to let him think he's escaped the consequences. But I'm also not going to start badmouthing the rest of them because of Arthur. They were still my family up until now."

Well, there was no problem with that, I thought. After all, they did take Harry in. It hurt to think that he'd allow himself to bypass one persons history just to remain with the other, but I was not about to let the others get onto his case about it though. Harry was very well spoken in this matter.

"He's right. None of us will let Arthur Weasley's raids continue and Ron Weasley is a fucking tosser, but we don't know where the rest of the family stands."

Some of them looked scandalized by this. I saw Harry's hand yearning to seek out mine. But this was not the time, not the place. "We will, though. It's time we filled the gap between light and dark and exposed the aurors. I will be having a meeting with the Minister on Friday. If all goes well we will hold a public conference in the Great Hall to discuss the matter. In addition, I have several ideas to aid in exploiting these raids." They passed a look of interest.

"How often do they happen?" Harry asked. The question was directed at me, but the forum had already begun. "Couple times a month in our families." Theo said from next to Blaise. "Not like there's much left to take, after tha'!" That was Pansy.

"Well who knows, maybe the walls are turned bad just form having us within them!" Someone -Lauder- I thought, laughed from my right. A laugh went around. "If they had proof of that, we'd all be left sleeping in tents in the woods." Said Malcom Baddock.

"You know what those light wizards say about Dark wizards in the woods!" Blaise chuckled. A united response came, "They took the ravens word for it!"

Harry was utterly lost. He turned to me and whispered under the cover of the now loud conversation going on. "You all have very good humor about this." He was very concerned.

"It's the only thing they can't take away from us, Harry. Rebellion."

Something in his eyes, a clarity that wasn't there before, an inspiration, shone.

The conversation continued. Idioms and laughter flew around the conversation. Harry would occasionally ask a question, -"what's a Freischter, Draco?"- and would then recede to his state of observation. There was a cease, however, when Blaise tried to redirect their attention. "What do you have planned for the raids?"

Silence reigned as hopeful eyes gleamed. "To show them all what really goes on in the raids. We will force them to acknowledge the truth."

"Not like we could get every one of em' to look in a pens-ive." Said Lammarck from across the room.

"No, your right. It will be difficult for those of you who participate, too. Have any of you seen a telly?"

Many no's replied. "It's a muggle invention. A box with a glass screen. It has plays inside of it. You can watch them any time, and if you leave it on, it doesn't stop playing." The unease was uncertain. No one was quite sure where I was going with this. "The banner in the Atrium -the one with the picture of Scrimgeour- doesn't stop moving after it's showed it's imprint once. It keeps going. Anyone passing can see it."

Harry looked bewildered. "I _do _know a bit about muggles, Harry." I grinned at him, he grinned back, pleasantly surprised.

"If we can learn to integrate our imprints in cloth, we can show everyone what happens. If we can modify the imprinting spell to show even one long memory, or several of them, we can show everyone the raids. We could change the memories every time the cloth were to run out of it."

"What about sound?" Blaise started. "It wouldn't be complete if they couldn't hear. I mean... that's adds to the fear." He shrugged his shoulders.

I nodded. Indeed, it would be a good addition. "The Prophet has started reading itself out loud." Said Anthony's brother Adele.

"Good." I said, looking about the room. "We can charm the fabric to play a certain sound with a specific memory."

"But you shouldn't only put it in the Atrium." Harry said grimly. "People there will just try to tear it down. And if they don't succeed, they will just ignore it."

I nodded and jumped off my chair to the front wall of the room, next to the door. I waved my wand and a map of England appeared. "Locate" I spoke to it. Four dots appeared on the map. There was one for Diagon Alley, one for Hogsmead, one for Lennox and one for Serdona.

"These are the four main wizarding villages in England." I said to Harry. "I didn't know there were four!" He said, appalled. "How big are the other two?" He asked, eyeing Serdona. "They're actually towns, mate. Not just alleys." Blaise said to him. "Bout two thirds the size'a Bridgwater." Goldstein quipped. Potter looked scandalized.

"We start with the Atrium. Then we move on to put one up in each location." I said. There was a hubbub. Everyone started moving around. "I've got some huge white curtains at home!" Cried one of them.

"No! It has to be unadulterated cloth. I'll call for the house elves to bring the material. We're going to weave it ourself." I said. Another clamor as people rushed around, making a space in the center of the room. The couches were pushed against the walls. Wands were brought out. Some people came up to view the map, pointing to different places, arguing about specific locations.

Harry scuttled over to me. "Draco-" he took my hand for a second, then dropped it, "Don't you think you should arrange for more than one night? I mean, do they all just know where to meet this summer? It's not like we have time to make all four in three nights, and we have exams tomorrow."

Oh Potter -I thought- you have so much to learn about Dark Magic. I took his hand and pulled him in for a second. I spoke in his ear. "You've never been a part of an Old Ritual before." He looked unsure. "I don't think-"

"Don't think." I said. I nuzzled behind his ear and pulled away, smiling. Blaise was eyeing us from his place on a couch by the wall. I raised an eyebrow at him and he smirked in response.

I called for the house elves. "Pure Gauze." I told Elli the elf. "We need it now."

"Of course, Sir! Elli is getting yous the gauze, sir! Elli will return shortly, sir!"

And they did. They piled fibers in clay bowls all around the room. The Slytherins sat on the ground and on couches around the edges of the room, like children waiting for a story. "Use ætfele on your hands" I said, pointing my wand at one hand, then the other. They followed suite. I took Harry's hands -he was flummoxed again- and applied the spell to both. I rubbed his hands together with mine, observing him as I did so. Potter was astounded.

"It's tingling." He said. I nodded. "This is how Dark Wizards work, Potter. Always use your own magic to do things."

"But you just cast a charm on them." He said, holding out his hands.

"No," I took his hands again, "the spell I used was called adherence. It makes your magic behave in a specific way. It's _your _magic in _your _body pooling in _your _hands. It's not leaving your person, Harry. It's not being channeled through a wand, either."

He was lost again. He smiled goofily and wondrously at his hands. I took some of the fibers out of the bowl beside me and held them up for the rest to see. Simply, I rubbed the fibers together in my hand until it made a long, thin string. Then I added more material to one of it's ends and did the same. They copied me. Most of these children had never participated in a weaving ceremony, being too sheltered from the Old Rituals by their parents. I swished my wand before sitting down. A hum started to vibrate through the walls, deep and strong. Blaise started to sing first. Old songs. Songs speaking of hope. Of strentgh. His voice was beautifully deep. I continued to rub material through my hands until it was almost a meter long, then I threw the tail behind me, kept weaving, kept working. I joined in singing.

"Starward, home awaits

Gods to show us where

Sun to shine us there

Let the war wage on"

Harry worked fast while listening. The Slytherins had all started singing, smiling. Harry looked up to me, embarrassed that he didn't know the words. I hummed loud enough for him to hear. His hands stopped moving, his eyes kept on me. I hummed louder. He started, barely a noise, until he hummed with me. I saw him start to enjoy himself, swaying as he listened and hummed. I sang again.

"To ruins of a home

We bring our children

Yet they have been christened

Battles in their eyes

They will not deny

Blessed be we wizards

So let the war wage on."

Night came. It got dark, but we still worked. The energy was thick and welcoming. Our hands worked, magic drew around as our hands drew the strings through one another, over and down, until the fabric started to come together.

"Tradition!" Harry laughed. I don't know when we switched to Fiddler on the Roof, but now everyone was singing it.

Thursday, June 26

The exams were scheduled to start in a half our. We didn't attend breakfast in the Great Hall but nibbled as we worked in our common room. The fabric was coming together with song and calluses. I looked to Harry as I did every five minutes since last night, now instead of with worry but with pride. He was singing lyrics he didn't know, giving directions -connect that here-, -Don't use that cord, it needs to go sideways!- until we finally saw some progress.

"We need a bigger room!" Called someone on the other side of the elm. Indeed, the fabric was running around the tree like a spiral, students packed in every swirl to pull cords through.

"Let's go to the anti chamber, then!" Harry suggested.

As a cohesive unit we moved down the hallway to the large stone chamber outside the hall. It laid perfectly, huge and clean and pure. There were trouble spots, but they were quickly dissolved when we could see the entirety of the cloth.

"Exams in 15!"

We worked faster, harder. It became one flat piece, except for the huge hole in the center where the students were weaving it inwards.

"We need to go quicker!" Goldstein said before he crawled under the fabric and to the outside.

I took a place in the middle, working as fast as nimble fingers could go. Rebelling against the Ministry aside, exams were still very important. I turned around surreptitiously until the hole was only big enough for myself and then until I had to go underneath to finish pulling the thread through. When the hole was no bigger than a button hole I tied all the loose pieces together, making a huge knot in the center.

When I was back outside the cloth, the knot looked very ugly.

"Céosan" I said, pointing my wand at my hands again. Kneeling, I pressed my hands to the edge of the fabric, then gripped it. Blaise copied on the opposite side, Pansy and Theo on the other edges.

All as one, we pulled the fabric tight and the knot dissolved, turning into one huge, complete mass. It was finished.

We were all running as quickly and as dignified as we could. Harry took my hand at the back of the crowd, grinning as he did so.

"I'm happy." He said, smiling. He looked it, too. Maybe he'd been happy before. Maybe he thought that was as happy as he'd ever be. But now he had a glow, and any Dark wizard could recognize it. "You've come to be, Harry." I said, squeezing his hand.

"A great wizard once told me that all we all come to be in their own time." His eyes shined as we left the Dungeon and reached the sunshine. "I just had to wait, and it came to me."

The doors to the Great Hall groaned as they opened. All the Slytherins walked calmly to their desks, hiding their breathlessness from running here. They sat with style. Harry and I stood at the front of the room. Every student in the hall, all the teachers and administrators, they all looked at us. I turned to Harry. He did the same. I smiled, he smiled. We turned back and stared straight on, staring them down, keeping the threats and disapproval down, keeping control. MacGonagall set our exams down next to each other. The clock to start exams rang the second we reached our desks, but we were turned to each other, keeping eyes locked.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, please start your exam."

"Yea?" I said, ignoring orders.

"Oh, it's simple." He chimed.

"We don't wanna kill." Sang the Slytherins in reply. We laughed and smiled. We sat, we wrote. The Slytherins finished before all the other houses. Dark Magic had been performed. We had all come to be in our place in the world. For that night we just sat together and shared the hope we all needed to feel, and now we were ready for what was to come.

Thursday night, June 27

The worst part of perfecting our plan to show the world the truth behind the raids was definitely imprinting the memories on them.

All the Slytherins -and Potter- sat around our huge cloth in the anti chamber. The fireplaces roared to keep us warm in the early morning.

The night after exams we did nothing but sit together in the common room. For some of the night we'd discuss our project or worries about going home. "I don't know what to expect" I told the eager eyes around the room, "but I tell you this-" I held there attention raptly for a moment, "if they harmed a single hair on my-kneazles cute little head-"

"Draco!"

"Common, mate!"

"Really? Your such a tosser!"

I heard Blaise as he turned to whisper in Potter's ear, "Draco will never give up that mangy thing!"

"Blaise, I heard that!" I threw a pillow at him.

"Fuck it!"

Now, though, we were busy at work.

"I'll perform the spell, but we're going to need five memories." They shifted uneasily. "The hardest ones to remember -the most gruesome-, there's no point in pretending it's not as bad as it is and not putting it up." I said to them.

"The first should be yours, Draco. You know the-"

"Not that. If I let that cat out of the bag now I won't get anywhere with the Minister tomorrow. But soon." I promised. I was not faking, either. I'd considered sharing that, the most terrifying, horrible night of my life, but it would work more against us.

"Something else, then." Blaise said. He knew about every raid in my life, I'd told him about every one in detail.

I grimaced in thought. Harry looked very concerned and curious.

"First time you were raped!" Someone cried from across the room.

Potter looked scandalized at me. "We don't keep secrets about the raids, Harry."

Blaise nodded in agreement.

I thought about that memory too. It was Astoria who had yelled that. I knew that the same thing happened to her often, but I shook my head, knowing there was something better. The fabric was hung from the wall so we could see the memories like a telly. We all stood against the wall opposite the fabric and contemplated it.

"Harry-" He looked at me in bewilderment, I smiled "I don't think your ready to see this."

"Draco-"

"We're all used to seeing it-"

"We don't keep secrets about the raids, Draco."

I conceded. "Céosan." I said, walking across the room and reaching to touch the cloth. I concentrated as hard as I could on the memory, the smell, the sounds, the sights, the _pain_.

I kept my eyes shut, but I could see it all.

Harry's P.O.V.

I watched Draco. I admired him. He was so strong, so open and caring. "We don't keep secrets about the raids, Draco." I said to him. He thought this over, getting that expression he had when he tried not to feel beaten. His eyes just stared and his mouth was open a hair crack. Then he'd blink.

"Céosan." I was overtaken with curiosity again. Dark Magic always gave me this feeling -like I was missing out on something, something everyone else knew about. Draco stretched elegant hands to just touch the edge of our masterpiece. We'd worked so hard that night, and it felt so good just to be a part of something again, like the D.A. The Slytherins accepted me without missing a beat. Especially Blaise, who was now watching Draco with a disgruntled expression.

I felt myself jump to defend Draco for whatever reason, but realized Blaise was not disgruntled about Draco, but rather at the memory Draco chose. I got lost in it.

Little feet protruded from the end of a bed where a blond woman -Narcissa- was wiggling Draco's toes. Draco hadn't imprinted sound yet, so I didn't know if little Draco was laughing.

I felt a hand wrap around mine. It was Blaise. He was staring with obvious nausea at the fabric.

"I really think you should go, Harry." He looked ready to vomit.

"I can handle it."

"No, really." He cringed. We were all standing at the far wall, -or sitting, now that I looked. Some had collapsed against the wall. I looked back to the fabric. Lucius had just entered with a grin on his face. He was carrying a tray of tea and set it down on Draco's bed. His father offered Draco and his mother a glass. Little Draco's tiny hand reached out to point at a sugar bowl and a creamer. His mother smiled and added two lumps and a gulp of cream to his teacup -covered in little kneazles-. His little hands waved around and his parents laughed. They added more sugar. The little arms waved around more. Narcissa took both of Draco's hands in hers and leaned forward. Draco's eyes closed, making the screen black. When he opened his eyes again, she was sitting back and smiling nicely at her son. She handed him the tea.

Snape walked in the room, carrying with him a colorful glass container. Draco's little hands flew to cover his mouth. Snape smiled as he rounded to lean on Narcissa's back and hand on her shoulder. Lucius looked to Snape, trying to aid what Snape was saying. The professor dangled the container in front of Draco.

"It tastes like orange juice." Snape was saying.

I jumped as I realized that someone had cast the spell to make the sound work. Blaise squeezed his hand and pulled me to sit down. I did and was pulled back against his chest, his back to the wall and his arms around my waist, squeezing tightly.

"You helped me decorate it yourself, look!" He chuckled. It was covered in crude crayon drawings of kneazles and thermometers.

"No! I dun' wanna drink it!" Draco had a stuffy nose. He was sick, I realized, and adorable too.

"Please, Draco, to make me happy?" His mother chimed.

Draco fidgeted with his arms in his lap, then nodded. She poured it into his tea.

"But I wun't Daddy to make it tasty!"

"I already did, Draco." He said gently. Draco took the cup clumsily and looked inside.

"Ew! Daddy! You added too much!"

Indeed, you could see the sugar in the cup piled up to just underneath the surface. His father chuckled. "Do you want me to fix it?"

Draco fidgeted again.

"No Daddy. Thank you."

Draco raised the cup to his lips, not that I could see more than just the rim of the cup. The memory was from Draco's view, not a view _of _Draco.

I could just see a little tongue sticking out at the bottom of the fabric. "Ugh."

His mother took the cup away from him. "Teeth." She said. She pointed her wand at Draco and cast a tooth brushing charm.

"All better?" Snape asked. I thought it was surreal how gentle he could sound.

"Mhm!" Draco chimed. The adults chuckled again. His mother and father kissed him and left the room. Snape eyed the door conspicuously before shimmying over to Draco on the edge of the bed.

"Do you want to finish the story?" He asked excitedly. Draco's fringe bounced at the top of the cloth as he nodded.

They threw the covers over themselves and Snape cast a "Lumos".

He pulled a book from his robes and toyed with Draco's toes for a moment before cracking it open. In this light, Snape looked years younger, like he was never aged by war. "Where were we?" He asked, although it was obvious he knew.

"Sev!" The little Draco whined.

"Alright, okay." He paused, grinning, then plunged into the story.

"King Alexander looked over the hills of Scotland. He knew the dragon, all _big, _and _scaly, _and _raw!_" He clawed his hands at Draco, "terrifying, was near!" Draco giggled and kicked his little toes at Snape's knee. "Do they really sound like tha'?"

"Of course, Draeconis!" He said, shifting his gaze back and forth. "Except when they roar, it really sounds like a beast." Then Snape did a good impression of one and Draco giggled and screeched, kicking his little toes again.

"Bed, both of you!" Narcissa said from the door. Both Snape and Draco "awed" at that, but Snape resignedly crawled out from under the covers. He kissed Draco on the forehead. "Goodnight, poppet."

He walked out of the room, carrying the book with him.

Now I felt foreboding. Yes, I'd been caught up in the love of the memory, the wonderful closeness of their family, but now little Draco was alone, in the dark. It filled me with anxiety, because this was supposed to be a memory of deep pain and suffering. And if his memory of pain and suffering surpassed that of being raped for the first time, I was deeply concerned.

The screen was quiet for a little while. Little Draco's hands reached out and flick a switch. Little dogs on strings walked in a circle, barking a song. Draco sunk in his cover and watched them.

But then everything changed. A huge bang sounded somewhere in their house. Draco ran for the wall, watching his little feet on the floor. He tried to open the closet door, but someone came into his bedroom. Draco pounded on his closet door. He turned to look at the invader, a looming shadow.

"Elli!" He sobbed. The house elf appeared. She noticed the lurking shadow and took hold of little Draco's arm. A pop resounded and little Draco landed on a floor. The view changed as he got up, going from sideways to straight. House elves were running all around the room, carrying things and snapping their fingers. "Master Draco is to come with Elli!" She said, taking his arm. She shoved him to the other side of the room -a kitchen, maybe- and into a closet. "Master Draco is to stay here, no matter what."

The view became that of the view one would see peeking out the crack of a closet's doors. The room outside went black. Draco's harsh breathing was the only sound. Then the light came back on. All the house elves looked to the left. "No one is to be in the elves kitchen!" Elli said, her voice now familiar to me.

Someone grunted and grabbed her head, throwing her to the side. There was a moment of silence, then all the elves charged. All had knives and some such thing.

Then there was blood.

"No one is to be entering the elves kitchen." That jerked me up. I recognized that voice. Dobby rushed by the door, sounding very much in charge. Apparently the intruder didn't stand a chance. Screaming and gushing could be heard, over and over until the noise died down. The view changed just enough for Draco to see a massacred body on the floor.

"Outside!" Dobby ordered. The house elves dragged the body out, leaving a trail of blood on the floor.

I felt sick already.

Another huge bang sounded and Lucius entered, wiping blood from his shirt. "Elli." He said shortly. The house elf turned her attention from cleaning a knife to her master. "Where is Draco?" Her eyes shifted to the closet.

The house elf would not answer. "No one is to be entering-"

"Yes, yes, I don't care. Where is my boy?" He demanded harshly. Elli seemed to notice something impervious to me. "Intruder!" She cried. Again, the house elves took to attacking, but the man swished his wand at them and they froze.

Steps came closer and the closet door was torn open. Draco pressed himself back, but he was pulled out roughly by this man. Now without the kind smile on his face, this blond man looked violent and grotesque. He threw Draco to the floor, breaking a few of his teeth. He was kicked in the side twice and dragged over the floor where the blood was.

"Enjoy that, you brat?" That man spat. He took one of Draco's fingers and forcefully swiped it across the blood. "Like that?" He repeated.

"No!" Draco answered. He received a punch to the face. The man grabbed his nose, akin to a gesture of playfulness, and yanked. A crack sounded and Draco screamed. He clawed at the man's eyes and struggled to get away. His fingernail grazed the man's eye once, and he was thrown down again.

But he was being dragged now, by the foot. Draco dragged his fingernails against the floor, causing many to break. He kept being dragged, though, as sounds of more chaos seeped into my ears. He was set down and turned over with a kick to the stomach. The view changed to that of a ceiling with huge paintings of angles and demons on it. It was shining down on them like the sky in daylight.

The man pulled Draco up by his hair. "Got this one." He said, now distinctively another voice.

All around men in trench coats and grimy shirts were kicking things over and breaking everything they could get their hands on. A feeling of familiarity washed over me as I looked at a vase. Draco told me about this, the empathy that seeped into the viewers was part of the effect. Then the vase was smashed into shards on the floor and I felt at a loss.

Draco crawled into the center of the room. In the doorway his mother was tied to a chair. Her hair covered her face. She was a silhouette in the light of the doorway. A man struck her, over and over.

"Crucio!" Someone yelled. I felt panic. Narcissa was screaming and struggling against her binds.

A curse shot down onto the man torturing Draco's mother. Lucius was running down a staircase, covered in blood and grime and mud. He turned towards me -Draco, and then turned back to his wife. Another wave of his wand and his wife was free. Then Lucius stood looking at the man standing over his son.

"Fringes" Lucius said. The man grinned. He stepped on Draco's neck. Little hands tried to push the foot away, but it just pressed harder.

Then the man fell over, his feet landing on Draco's stomach and pushing the air out of him.

"Severus!" Lucius yelled. Snape ran up to Draco, sitting him up. "Hey." He said. He shook Draco a little until a yelp escaped him. Snape breathed out in relief. "Still here!" He yelled to Lucius, who was dueling with at least five people. Narcissa stood shakily and joined him. Some of the men fell. Severus carried Draco a room off to the side, one thankfully void of inhabitants, and shoved Draco into a chair facing away from the entrance.

"Stay here." He said, slightly panicked. When he received no reply he shook Draco. "Poppet? Poppet?"

"Ngh." With that, Snape kissed his forehead and pulled his wand. He ran out of the room, not looking like a young man untouched by horrors, instead skulking like a man matured with war.

It stayed dark for a few minutes. Sometimes the room would be illuminated by a spell in the other room. The sounds continued with screams and yells and curses. A thump reached Draco's ears and he turned, although forbidden, to see his father's prone figure in the doorway.

Immediately little feet padded over and shook his father. Lucius smiled up at him. "My wand." He croaked. Draco took it from his long fingers and held it gingerly. "Céosan. Draco."

"Céosan." Said a little voice. Nothing happened. He tried again. And again. And again. Tears started to blur the screen. "Céosan!" He tried to yell, whipping the wand. The light was slowly leaving his father's eyes.

Finally the spell worked. Draco clasped his hands to his fathers arm, his chest, stomach, anything to get his father to move. His breathing was better, but not by much. "It's fine now, son." He said. He tried to lift himself up, but ended up in a heap on the floor. "Céosan." Draco whispered. He tapped his father's stomach and then pressed his hands to it, seeing a light spread. His father took a huge gulp of air, and nodded a little.

Severus was next. He lay on the floor a few meters away. He propped himself up on an elbow and snarled at someone, then spat. He received a kick to the head. Draco rushed forward. "Céosan!" His little voice yelled. The attacker screamed, gripping his arm tightly. Draco yelled it again. The attacker screamed louder as he squirmed and jolted. A bang resounded. A hand came up and pulled away, covered in blood. The man was still screaming, clutching nothing where his arm used to be. But then everything went black.

The view came back to look at a red haired man. He sneered at Draco and hit him in the nose. I felt a twinge in my own. This man loomed over Draco. He pursed his lips and let a long trail of drool hang down until it covered the view. It was blinked out of the screen. I felt arms tightening around me and turned back just a bit. Blaise was squeezing his eyes shut. He burrowed his head in my neck.

A scream brought my attention back to the screen. It was tinged pink now, undoubtedly with blood. Draco was propped up to look at his little toes. The man grabbed each one, mimicking what his parents had done earlier that evening. "You want your family to be happy, don't you."

The screen bobbed.

"You want them to live happily ever after?"

And again.

"Then die, you shit. You people are the scum of the earth."

A click and a scream. The man was bending one toe very far sideways. He gave a sudden twist as it broke. He grabbed the next toe. Draco tried to squirm away. But he did it again. He turned it so slowly, then gave a fast yank.

"Stop it! Stop hurting him!" His mother yelled.

"Shut up you bitch!" Someone kicked her hard enough to send her across the floor.

"Don't look away from me!" Draco's attacker said. Sharp pain brought his attention back as his whole foot was slammed down sideways, popping. Then it returned to the toes. Three of them already bent awkwardly. This one was bent and snapped.

"Oh, look at that." He pulled and just a bone was left sticking out.

Then came the big toe. "This can all stop if you just tell me what your family is planning!" He yelled.

"Nothing!" Came Draco's sobbing reply. The toe snapped. Now the whole foot was wrecked and bloody. Then the man moved onto the next foot. "What are they planning?"

"Nothing!" Crack! "Nothing!" Snap!

It was like watching a horror movie, but so much worse. I could feel it every time Draco's toes were broken. I knew this was real. Not some cheesy special effects. This had actually happened to my friend. This was pulled out of his past, dusted off and presented to us.

Pop! The other foot was snapped suddenly sideways.

He moved up the Draco's knee, holding his palm above it.

"Tell me!"

"They aren't planni-"

Pop. His fist landed on Draco's knee cap and it popped. Draco screamed. It repeated with the other knee. Then it went on to the fingers, the elbows. Draco was sobbing and gasping and screaming by the time his second shoulder was dislocated. His head was yanked up by his hair to look at the man whose arm he exploded. Dread swelled in my chest.

"Don't you think that hurt him?" The red haired man asked, sneering.

"But -But he was hurting my-"

He earned a slap in the temple. The screen swayed for a moment before settling back on the armless man.

"Don't you want to know how that feels?" He now sneered.

Draco screamed and pleaded.

"All you have to do is tell me what they're planning, Draco. You know deep down that all Dark wizards are _evil._"

"No-" Draco sobbed, "not them. Not my mumma. Not papa. Not Sev. Please. Please. They didn't do anythin' Please!"

The man took a knife out of his pocket. Several more men stood over Draco, holding him down. The knife pressed against his forearm.

"No!"

It pressed harder.

"NO!"

The cut started, but not just in a pressing motion. It moved back and forth, serrated like a saw. It cut through the flesh slowly, leaving jagged skin in it's wake.

"PLEASE! NO!" He sobbed, struggled. But the dread was there and the knife dug. I could feel Draco's terror. The noise. The gurgle made by the blood and the scraping as the blade found bone. Draco's thoughts found their way into my head. "I can do something. I have to. I have to be stronger for them." And there it was. The resolve. I connected it, somewhere in the back of my brain, that this was a pinnacle moment for my friend. This is what made him who he is. The resolve to be strong, to help all who suffered this way.

My stomach was doing backflips while watching, not that I'd noticed. Blaise held me tight. I felt something swell in my chest -although I knew it was little Draco's resolve to do something, and then it came.

"Fuck! FUCK! LIGHT WIZARDS ARE EVIL! YOU'LL ALL DIE! PISS! SHITTY PISS! FUCK!"

While I might have once laughed at this solution, I watched now in grievance. The only thing Draco could do to bear the pain was to curse through it. Then the knife hit the floor abruptly as it finished with the bone.

"ARGH!" Draco screamed and lunged, not using anything but shear force as his limbs were all out of order, and bit the nearest thing. Leches Fringes' ear. He bore down hard and didn't let go, even as men were trying to pull him off. They hit him and kicked him, tearing at his skin for him to stop, until someone stabbed him in the thigh. Draco screamed through his teeth and finally tore the ear right off. He spit it onto the floor.

Then everything changed.

"Time to go!" Someone yelled. And just like that, the aurors ran out like deer chased by hunters. The red haired man still peered down at Draco, nothing but hatred for this child. "I have a family that loves me." He spat, squeezing Draco's temples. "I have a home to go back to. What the fuck do you have?" He forced Draco to look around. Three bodies and some broken stuff, fires in the background. Draco, I could feel, was glaring at the man. He let his small voice carry out. "I have a heart." The red haired man reeled back. He was wide eyed and angry. He stomped on Draco's bleeding arm, but Draco didn't scream. He bore his teeth. Then the red haired wizard was gone. He slammed the door to the mannor.

Draco crawled weakly over to his father and shook him. Draco knew that he would die soon, but if he could just say goodbye to everyone then- But no reply came. When Draco shook a little harder, his father turned his face from the floor and desperately looked at his son.

"Draco."

"I'm dying, dad."

"Me too, son."

Draco tried to smile, but the scene was fading.

It became black.

But then it sprang to life. "Please Draco, please hold on." A desperate voice called to him. Black hair fell over his eyes. A few drops of blood landed on his face as well as tears. "Poppet." The man whispered. He cradled Draco back and forth, singing softly.

"Don't say goodbye to me

This is only the start

Look how good the future will be

When we won't be apart."

Severus sobbed as he held Draco, arms folded across Draco's chest, his blond head in the man's lap. Severus rocked a little harder.

"What do you mean, we can't come in! My son is dying! Do you understand? A child! He's only seven and he's dying."

"Momma." Draco croaked. Severus sobbed harder.

"Narcissa." He called. She turned and noticed her son's open eyes.

"Lucius!" She called. Then all three were around Draco. His father held his hand. "Try and hold on, Draco."

"I can't, Daddy." His voice was so quiet and so hoarse.

"You can. Your so strong. You've done so well." His mother was crying now. Draco felt pride, but he was also feeling weaker by the minute.

"So sleepy."

"No." Was all Severus could say. "Don't you want to hear the end of the story?" He tried to smile. He hiccuped through sobs. Narcissa returned to the fire where a nurse was speaking.

"It is full of aurors that _you _cursed!" The nurse shouted.

"They cut off my little boys arm, you useless wench! Your going to let an innocent child die for this! Fuck you!" She threw soot in the fireplace.

"Narcissa." Severus sobbed. "Narcissa, we're losing him."

She clambered back over. "Can't you do it yourself?" Lucius asked her. She stared at Draco for a long moment.

"The table." She said. She left and returned. Severus and Lucius lifted Draco on to a table and held him still. His mother returned with the missing arm.

"Hold him down." She said curtly. She positioned the arm and spoke. "Céosan." Draco screamed and struggled, unaware of the help he was being given.

"Hold on to him!" She snapped. "Inseglian." She whispered, holding her wand to Draco's arm. He screamed again. I could feel the pain and grasped my arm.

It was starting to work, just a little. The arm wasn't even perfectly aligned.

"Severus, do you have any blood replenishing potion?" She scrutinized him. He paused, then ran as fast as he could out of the room. "Hold him." Lucius did as he was told. Draco screamed again. He fought so hard he almost fell off the table. Lucius centered them again. Narcissa forced Draco's arm down on the table and said forcefully "Inseglian." A red line was starting to form between the two parts. At first it was just the bone that cracked back into place.

Severus practically flew back into the room, holding all of his potions in his hand. He dumped them out on a chair and sorted through labels, pulling three out.

"Blood Replenisher." He said, forcing Draco to drink. When he couldn't swallow, Snape said a spell that forced him to. Draco coughed weakly. He pulled the second potion. "Flesh and bone grower." He said, trying to make Draco drink again.

Then he pulled a small clear tube. Without explanation he lathered it all over Draco's arm. It was resealing quickly now, no more than a two millimeter gap between the remaining unjoined bits.

Narcissa kept trying her spell again, but it stopped taking effect. They carried Draco to a couch and sat around, waiting. But something was wrong. A pensive Snape reached over and touched Draco's forehead, reeling away.

"His fever is back." He said to the other two. He rushed out of the room and back again.

"Poppet." He whispered, kneeling next to the couch. He held up a container labeled with crudely drawn kneazles and thermometers. Harry could feel Draco's heart lighten just a bit at that. Snape got him to sit up enough to drink it.

Then he set his head down on Draco's stomach.

And they waited.

And waited.

Dawn was brightening the horizon in the window.

"I think-" Severus started to say. "I think we're losing him again."

But Draco felt peace. He'd made it through the night.

"I love you guys." He squeaked out.

Then the memory ended, Snape and Lucius and Narcissa screaming at him to hold on, just a few more hours, and they were sobbing and clutching him.

Then it was over. I was left feeling empty. Light returned to the anti chamber along with deadly silence. Draco stood up, mostly unfazed. I thought -no, I knew I was going to throw up. Or cry. Or something.

He was walking towards the rest of us now.

"Oh Harry." He said softly. And before Blaise could tighten his hold on me I ran out, sobbing. I threw up the second I was out the door. I was doing both, actually. By some miracle my blowing my intestines out my mouth didn't stop me from displaying my wreck of emotions. I didn't hear the door open, but I felt arms on my shoulders. I jerked away when I knew the vomiting was done for a moment. It was Draco, looking ashamed. He'd shown me the memory, and _he _was ashamed?

I lunged at him, trying desperately to remove his shoes. Draco recognized it, but I was too upset to notice. I threw one off and tore the sock away, staring at Draco's toes. All there. The one closest to the big toe had a big disfiguring scar, all the other scars were small. But they all bent a little more than a normal toe would.

The nausea returned. I lunged away, throwing up again. It was like my stomach couldn't catch up with the fact that Draco was alright. Then again, it was hard to believe. He'd been dying in that memory, on the verge of eternity, but yet he was here, with me. When my stomach settled again I sat back on my knees, sobbing and rubbing at my eyes. They'd been right. I wasn't ready to see that.

"You all have a very good sense of humor about this." I remembered myself saying.

"It's all we've got that they can't force out of us, Harry." Draco replied. I hadn't realized that I'd spoken out loud. Draco wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me down.

I must have stayed like that for hours. Draco waved his wand at the vomit to make it disappear, but I couldn't move. Blaise came into the hall and sat where my puke used to be. He couldn't focus his eyes, really. He leaned forward and set his head on my chest. I held it there.

Draco started to rock me back and forth and hum. I was reminded of the memory, but the horror was fading.

"That was Arthur Weasley?" I said after an hour or so.

"Yea." They replied in unison.

"And Ron knew all about what he did?"

"Yea."

"Oh god." I was crying again.

Draco's P.O.V

I knew Harry wouldn't take the memory well. I'd been concentrating so hard on imprinting it on the fabric that I didn't have to opportunity to check on him. The second it was over though, I could practically feel the horror. When his first sob came, all the Slytherins were filled with guilt. We knew we shouldn't have shown him. Harry raced out the door. Before I could go after him though, Blaise grabbed my arm. "Are you alright?" He asked.

I thought this was a rather odd question. "I'm fine, Blaise." I said normally. And really, that was no more than an occupational hazard for me. I didn't really think about it in terms of emotion, anymore. It was more like a vague reminder of _why_ I was taking care of people.

Speaking of which- I let my feet carry me out the door. I was a bit surprised to find Harry throwing up just outside. All the Slytherins looked at him in surprise. None of us were affected by things like this anymore. And okay, most of them were feeling queasy and sad and angry and disgusted, but to us, the thought of vomiting over something like this was-

Practically alien. But Harry- I reminded myself, never knew about these things until now. Voldemort looked tame in comparison to Weasley.

I tried to hold his shoulders, to steady him against the violent shudders of his stomach. He lunged at me to try and get a good look at my toes. I knew the feeling. Sometimes I still couldn't believe I still had them all. Harry looked nonplussed though. He stared at me in awe and horror, and threw up again. I spelled it away and pulled him to me.

When he asked if it was Arthur Weasley, it seemed so simple to answer, despite wether or not it hurt Harry.

But when he asked if it was Ron, I knew that would hurt him, and when I answered, he started to sob again. Blaise tightened his arms around Harry again. The Slytherins still stood in the doorway, watching Harry sob on me. Then one by one, the Slytherins came out and sat with us, leaning against one another and holding each other until we were all just silent and comfortable. Harry was being held by so many people that when he finally tried to move, ten Slytherins jerked up from their peaceful state.

I looked down at Harry with a smile. "Alright?"

He didn't answer. He wrapped his arms around me in a proper hug, afraid to let go.

"Are you?" He asked hoarsely.

I laughed. "As long as you are." I replied cheekily. Harry had calmed down. We managed to get everyone inside, but then they all stood apprehensively in the door to the common room. The banner was left in the anti-chamber, blank and waiting for a reset spell. I called all the house elves from the manor. "Put all the mattresses from the dorm in here?" I asked. They complied. Elli looked at me a moment longer. I knelt down to her, pulled her in. I'd never considered Elli different from anyone else, really. She was one of my best friends. She squeaked, but returned the motion. Elli was not afraid of me. She was afraid _for _me, but then, that was just Elli. She popped away and a mattress took her place. The common room filled with mattresses. We all took off our shoes as we climbed over them. I set down with Harry at the furthest possible distance from the anti chamber. Blaise came with us. Blankets appeared as we three Slytherins sat down. I held my arms out for Harry and he climbed tiredly into them. Then I turned to Blaise. He held Potter as well.

After a half hour, everyone was asleep but Harry and I. Blaise had turned over to spoon an unsuspecting Pansy, but Harry, I could feel, was wide awake.

I kissed his forehead and he looked up, wide eyed. "Draco?"

"Yeah Harry?"

He paused and stared at me. "Thank you."

I spluttered. What could he possibly have to thank me for?

"For being honest with me. For really... showing me, you know? You've never pushed me, and even though we weren't friends for six years, I know you watched over me." I kissed his forehead, thinking he was through.

"I can't go back to the Weasleys." He said in a depressed manner. "I don't want to go to the Dursleys. Or to Grimmauld Place."

I wrinkled my nose. I'd heard of cousin Black's house.

"You can stay with me, Harry."

"Your too good to me." He moped.

"No." I said, running a hand through his hair. "You just don't know what it's like to be treated with respect."

"I thought I did. I trusted them all so much. The Weasleys fooled me. Now the Gryffindors are judging me for something I can't control. And Hermione keeps pretending like nothings wrong but I don't let her carry on, and she leaves."

"I won't be going anywhere, Harry."

He nodded into my chest. I sighed when I realized, after fifteen long minutes, that Harry wasn't getting any closer to sleep. I ran my hands through his hair again and sang to him quietly, too soft to wake the Slytherins.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly

All your life

You were only waiting for this moment to arise."

Harry slept, and so did I.


End file.
